


Set Fire to the Rain

by Briana_Dubs



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Basically the dragon is a dweeb who falls in love with a tiny Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins & Smaug Friendship, Can you tell?, Comments are appreciated too, Hopefully daily updates, I added more tags, M/M, PLEASE KEEP TRACK OF THIS, Smaug Lives, Smaug LivesAU, THERE MAY END UP BEING SMUT, Thanks for the kudos!, This will include the prompt where Bilbo is the only one Smaug is willing to save/cares about, We never see a body, Young Bilbo Baggins, if not just keep track, yes - Freeform, yessssssss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 30,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briana_Dubs/pseuds/Briana_Dubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo had seen it once when he was young. The sky burning and the fire falling like rain upon the land. He remembered it well. The way the hill shone with orange light and the winds shook. He remembered his mother's fear and his father's warnings. He remembered the stars blending with the burning light. And he remembered the dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opener/Remembering

                Bilbo had seen it once when he was a fairly young Hobbit. It had been a family outing. His mother and father wanted their son to see what was just beyond the hills. They wanted him to see the way the moon shone beyond the mountains and made the world pale and beautiful. His mother had told him stories about how the shadows danced just over the hills when the night was young.

                They had been watching the stars. It hadn’t stuck out at first. It blended with the twinkling light of the stars above. Bilbo had been so excited. He pointed the fluttering orange light out to his parents, exclaiming that a star had fallen.

                And for a moment it looked that way. But quickly it turned to fiery rain. The sky burning. Smoldering drops of fire falling from the sky. Bilbo’s mother hid him away in her coat and ran. His father said it only could be a sign of bad things for the rain to have set fire. Very bad, very evil things.

                Little Bilbo did his best to peek out of the folds of fabric his mother had around him. He saw a large glowing light soaring across the sky, tossing the burning embers about and sending them fluttering away further. The forest began to light. Soon the once pale moonlit earth shone in warm orange light.

                “A dragon!” Bilbo had been so excited. “Mother, it’s a dragon!” He was hushed quickly and taken straight home. Once there he was taught all the dangers of dragons and magnificent beasts. He was told the dangers of the world.

                “You must always be wary. Never not be afraid, my child,” his father said, looking out the window and seeing the faint orange glow that burned beyond the rolling hills of the Shire. “There are dangerous things out there. And we are only so small. A great beast like a dragon could crush us without ever having seen we were there!”

                “But if you spoke to it, surely it would stop and look around!” Bilbo argued, holding his already large feet and rolling back and forth on his bum. “I think meeting a dragon would be fun!”

                “No!” his father told him, halting his son’s movements, “A dragon will kill you just as fast as a wolf. There is nothing fun about adventuring. The only way to stay alive is to stay here in your home.” Bilbo frowned and looked to his mother unhappily.

                “We only want you to be safe,” she said, running her hand over top his head, ruffling the curls. “You must promise me that you won’t do anything foolish, Bilbo.”

                Now that he was old, he remembered the day well. He remembered the promise he made with his fingers crossed behind his back. He had only been a child. Not even seven years of age yet. But he remembered the way the sky burned and the fire fell like rain. And he remembered the dragon.


	2. Into Erebor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters bounce around a bit from memories of the past to things Bilbo does with the company, so just be warned.

                When Bilbo was first approached by Gandalf about this great adventure he was frightened. Even more so by the idea of possibly facing a great fire-breathing dragon. He had grown into the ways of his father. Safe and scared. But now that he had been on this journey for quite some time, he had experienced more of the terrors of life.

                He began wondering about the dragon. And he had begun asking questions. “How long has the dragon slept in Erebor?”

                “Near fifty years,” Bofur had told him, walking along beside Bilbo.

                “How long exactly?” he asked.

                Bofur was about to answer when Dwalin spoke over him. “Why does the number matter? The beast has been there a great long while…”

                Bilbo hung his head. “It does not matter, really… I was just curious.” And he was silent for a long time. Bofur patted his shoulder and offered sympathy. He was thankful for him.

                During the night Bilbo imagined the dragon he had seen forty-three years ago could have been Smaug. It was a nice thought. But Balin had said Smaug was a fire drake from the North. How North, Bilbo wondered. Perhaps the great beast flew off course and passed over the Shire.

                He frowned at himself. He should not want the dragon that took the home of his friends to be the dragon that nearly killed him when he was a child.

                “Were other dragons after the mountain?” he asked Balin, turning on his side, “Surely if one from far North heard of it, others must have also come to try and steal it away…”

                Balin shrugged. “It’s difficult to say, laddie. There very well could have been, but the terrible one could have killed his competition before they ever reached us… Why?”

                Bilbo turned onto his back once more. “I was just curious.”

                “Very curious about dragons lately,” Thorin growled from where he sat against a tree.

                The little Hobbit was about to shrink into himself with shame when Balin spoke in his defense. “Aye, and why shouldn’t the lad be? We are getting closer to our home every day. He knows what lies ahead. It’s only natural he wants to know what he’s going up against.” Bilbo smiled at his words. Balin was wise.

                He would have to remember to be wise like him, he told himself as he began taking soft steps down the stone corridor into the chambers of Erebor. He couldn’t let any childhood fantasies cloud his mind now. This was a serious life-or-death situation and if he did anything wrong it could kill him.

                “All right. Arkenstone. Arkenstone…” Bilbo stopped dead seeing the massive horde of treasure. Piled high to the ceilings. Gold beyond measure. “Right…This shouldn’t take too long, then, should it…?” He groaned to himself and began what no doubt would be an hours long search. It could probably take days there was such a mountain of gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, though, spelling is a huge problem...


	3. Sapphire

                Bilbo held a large blue jewel in his hand and smiled as he recalled meeting a man with hair the same shade of blue. He remembered well. The man had said his hair came to be that color when he was enchanted by a dragon. Bilbo remembered laughing in his face.

                “What sort of dragon would enchant a man when men kill dragons every chance they get?” he had asked, laughing, “Do you really expect me to believe such a lie?”

                The man had looked so offended. Even more so as he glowered down at the much smaller Hobbit. “It’s true! He was a Stone dragon!” Bilbo scoffed at him.

                “Stone dragons keep to themselves! Hardly anyone has ever seen one! They keep to their caves!” he made a face at the odd haired gentleman, “What other lies are you going to tell me? That the great beast considered you a treasure?”

                And then the man had stormed away and that was the last Bilbo ever saw of him. Once he had left, however, every Hobbit in the Shire came to him to ask about the stranger. None had been brave enough to ask him outright, but all were curious.

                As Bilbo held the stone he laughed in silence. “Enchanted by a Stone dragon,” he said, setting down what he assumed was a sapphire, “What a load of rubbish.” He had only ever heard stories of the great fire-breathing drakes. Once he had heard of a cold dragon attacking a village and frightening all the inhabitants by blowing smoke.

                Smaug was a fire breather. Bilbo had heard that much. He had heard he was a massive, hot tempered beast. Nothing like Ancalagon the Black, the largest dragon according to legend, but to a Hobbit… He swallowed. If to men that long dead beast was beyond enormous, he could only imagine how big he truly had been.

                All Bilbo had heard of Smaug the terrible was from the dwarves. All their stories… The tales of death and a stolen home. He could imagine a rage and a terror. He could imagine the proud Balin shedding many a tear at the loss of his homeland. He could picture Thorin falling to his knees.

                But he could not picture Smaug. All that came to his head was the fiery ball of light soaring across the black night sky. Forty three years and it still stayed vivid in Bilbo’s mind. He had to think that once he saw Smaug he would never be able to picture anything else when speaking about the great beasts.

                He stopped himself, his sifting through treasure halted. Was Smaug the last dragon? He had heard tales that he very well could be. None had seen nor heard of any other in decades. Men were even beginning to believe Smaug had died with age. Balin was not among those men. He warned Bilbo not to get comfortable with thoughts of finding a skeleton.

                “Smaug was a young dragon. He survives his predecessors by hundreds of years,” he had told him.

                “How young is young?” Bilbo asked, “Can’t a dragon live near forever?”

                Balin had only smiled and told him the other dragons besides Smaug had been positively ancient. “Thousands of years old,” he said, “Crumbling to dust when they were finally brought down.”

                Bilbo thought about it for quite a while. The dwarves wanted Smaug dead. They could very well be wiping out an entire species. Surely they wouldn’t want that… Would they? Bilbo couldn’t imagine telling young Hobbits that he saw the last dragon when he was a youthful fifty year old. He couldn’t imagine telling young ones that he was responsible for killing the last dragon. He was not a killer. He was just a simple Hobbit who wanted stories to tell in his old age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, please point out any spelling errors. Spell-check sucks.  
> I have like 7 Chapters of this written up already. I have never been so prepared for a story before.


	4. Waking the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a fair bit from the movies in the next few chapters, just to let you all know.

                Bilbo nearly fainted when the gold mounds shifted to reveal a monstrous, scaly red eye. He jumped back to hide behind a large stone pillar, hoping it would hide his tiny form easily. When the dragon did not stir, Bilbo assumed this would be his prime moment to run away. He slowly began to step forward, away from the slumbering dragon.

                This was, of course, the moment the dragon decided to stir. Bilbo fell to one knee. He waited. Hoping the great beast was simply trying to shift the gold back over his great eye.

                He was not.  He began to open his eye. Bilbo had to jump down behind a larger dip in the piles of gold. He hoped he had hid himself in time to avoid the monster’s gaze. Surely he had opened his eye. Bilbo could practically hear it. And now the dragon was moving again- actually lifting his head from the gold horde. Bilbo grabbed his ring and quickly slipped it onto his finger, hiding himself from the fire drake’s sight.

                He stayed ducked down as the giant scented the air. When Smaug growled he tried to hold in a whimper of fear, but forced himself to stand.

                “Well…” Bilbo held his breath as the beast spoke. Even simply speaking the dragon’s voice was loud, low, and powerful. He remembered tales of Dragon-Spell. How just with their words a beast could put weak willed creatures into a trance and bend them to its will. Now he understood how.

                The creature moved toward him and Bilbo’s knees buckled. “Thief,” it hissed, before sniffing the air just a small ways in front of Bilbo. “I smell you.” Bilbo had sank back down to the golden pile. Could Smaug still see him? His eyes were cast directly to where Bilbo stood hidden. It continued by saying, “I hear your breath…”

                Bilbo put his hands atop his head and curled in on himself. He felt relieved when the long, serpentine neck craned over him and past where he knelt ever so slightly. He felt himself trembling as the dragon’s neck passed just a foot above him. He was turning back to him now. Bilbo was slowly beginning to stand. Ready to run.

                “Where are you…?” the beast hissed, head coming back toward where he hid. “Where are you?” Smaug’s snout stopped just before him.

                He ran.

                In his haste to get away, his feet sent coins flying everywhere. He stumbled down the hill of treasure. And Smaug quickly followed. A massive paw smashed down into the horde just beside him. Bilbo did not scream.

                He ducked behind another massive pillar as Smaug used his head to send waves of gold flying all over. He felt the thud of a large claw shake the pillar he was using. He gasped for breath, hoping the clatter of gold would conceal the noise.

                Smaug’s head rose from the coins, neck following in a flowing motion as that terrifying, chilling voice purred out, “Come now… Don’t be shy… Step into the light.” Bilbo’s legs tingled. He was tempted to obey.

                Biting his lip, he thought of Balin. He must be wise.

                He was certain Smaug must know where he was, even with the ring concealing him. Because as he simply stood there, the great dragon slithered back around behind his pillar. Bilbo jumped away from it, trying to follow the beast’s movements.

                “Hmmm…There is… something about you,” the beast continued. Bilbo had lost it again. He peered around the pillar, trying to be quiet. “Something you carry.” He turned around again, backing along against the pillar. He stepped away, but the dragon’s head followed.

                He was face to face with the beast, his head level with the monstrous eye. “Something made of gold,” the purring continued. Bilbo looked at the giant eye already staring him down. It was like fire trapped inside a sphere of gold. Red and orange veins of light bursting from the strangely shaped pupil. The sight would surely haunt his dreams for the rest of his Hobbit life. “But far. More. _Preciousss…_ ” When the beast hissed out that word, pain flared in Bilbo’s head. He saw the creature he took the ring from. He heard its horrible voice. And he heard the ring’s voice. It snarled at him, wormed its way into his head. A burning. A flaming eye! Make it stop!

                “There you are,” Smaug spoke. Bilbo’s eyes went to him. He had removed the ring. “Thief. In the shadows…”

                Now Bilbo was trembling terribly. His voice shook just as much as his body when he replied to the terrific creature. His heart was racing. “I-I did not come to steal from you,” he stammered, voice breathy and weak, “Oh Smaug the unassessably w-wealthy.” The beast hissed as it looked at him. He flinched each time the burning eye moved closer to him. His face was coated in a sheen of sweat. “I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence,” Bilbo’s voice quivered. He didn’t even believe himself. How could such a creature fall for such frightened lies? “To see. If you really were as great as the old tales say,” he inhaled, squeezing down all of his fear and every instinct that told him to shut up and accept death, and said in a voice much too high pitched and much too obviously afraid, “Mm-I did not believe them!”

                And as he said it, the beast pulled away from him, snake-like neck twisting around. Bilbo should have taken the moment to run away- to escape. But part of him desperately wanted to see the dragon in his entirety. He wanted to gaze upon him and finally have an image in his mind forever.

                The dragon stepped away from him, gold crashing about like water with every movement. He turned himself toward the tiny Hobbit. He reared himself back and Bilbo was shone truly what a monstrous creature a dragon could be.

                “And do you now?” Smaug bellowed, lifting his head, tail sliding to curl beside him. There was an air of regality about him. Bilbo could have been looking at a king trapped in the body of a giant winged lizard.

                Bilbo stared. Every detail of the great beast would be etched in his mind forever. When he was one hundred years old he would describe Smaug to the little Hobbits of the Shire. He would paint them a picture of a beautiful, terrifying creature encased in its element.


	5. Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos! That's a real confidence boost to get feedback like that! :)  
> Hopefully I don't disappoint any of you!

                Bilbo had been trying to reason with the great beast for a short while now. He surely would have been more amazed by how the creature looked if he were not so afraid of being eaten by it. Smaug had massive teeth.

                He had purposely avoided giving the dragon his true name and what species he was, using all sorts of titles he could think of. He thought of his home in the Shire, living in his house under the hill, he thought of his game of riddles with the frightening Gollum, he remembered how lucky he was to have found the ring, and he remembered the ride along the river, clinging to a barrel. Smaug had not seemed all that impressed during his attempt to protect his skin.

                Bilbo had spotted the Arkenstone while he was talking to Smaug. He just needed time to get to it while the magnificent monster’s eyes were cast elsewhere. He had tried being as respectful as he could, though his voice shook terribly, saying as many kind things he could think of in such a frightened state. He had been told tales of how dragons loved to hear about how great they were.

                Smaug had proven those tales true. He seemed to purr as Bilbo flattered him... But his confidence dropped into his gut when the drake growled low in his throat and outright spoke of the dwarves.

                He had to speak fast if he wanted Smaug to not think him a liar. “D-dwarves? No, no, no dwarves here,” he said, trying to smile and make it seem as though he thought the idea of dwarves funny, “You’ve got that all wrong.”

                Smaug did not believe him. “Oh I don’t think so, Barrel Rider…” He began moving, twisting his head this way and that, and Bilbo slowly moved toward the Arkenstone as he spoke. “They sent you in here to do their dirty work while they skulk about outside.”

                He stopped himself as Smaug’s attention turned back to him. The beast was too accurate. “Truly, you are mistaken, oh Smaug. Chiefest and greatest of calamities,” he said, bowing his head a little, trying to show the last great fire drake his respect.

                And once more Smaug purred. “You have nice manners,” Bilbo shifted, “For a thief and a **liar**!” The little Hobbit felt his heart stop. The great dragon was far too close, and far too angry.

                Again Smaug began to move his head in succession side to side, great eyes narrowing in anger as he spoke. “I know the smell and taste of dwarf,” the growl was low, “No one better!” As he fretted in his hate of the species, Bilbo tried to scamper closer to the Arkenstone. He was so close now. He just needed to bend and retrieve it.

                But as Smaug continued, his massive claw dropped down and sent the gem flying down the hillside. He moved himself, nearly hitting the Hobbit with his paw. Bilbo snapped his head to look after the direction the stone went. And he made the mistake of trying to go after it.

                Smaug bellowed right behind him, “Did you think I did not know this day would come?” Bilbo was knocked off balance and began to fall as the beast made the earth shake, knocking into one of the supporting pillars of the chamber. Bilbo was momentarily buried in a small pile of fallen gold. “That a pack of camping dwarves would come _crawling back_ to the mountain?”

                And beyond the ringing of gold coins falling beside his ears, Bilbo heard a deafening crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for the kudos! If you have comments or criticisms, I'd be happy to hear them!


	6. Toppled

                The dragon toppled a massive stone pillar from off the very roof of the cavern, causing the earth to shiver and the gold to roll like thunder down and down into every crevice the mountain had. Sending poor little Bilbo tumbling, the golden horde ebbed and flowed until Bilbo was nearly drowning in the metal. Finally managing to scrape his way back to the surface after all had stilled, he took in deep gulps of air.

                “You’re still alive, are you?” Smaug’s booming voice nearly sent Bilbo sinking back into the gold. He couldn’t turn his head yet, he was still trying to lift himself out of the gold, but the dragon sounded somewhat far away. “Whether you and your dwarves live or die matters not,” the dragon continued, and Bilbo had to hurry and move when he spoke, “The darkness will come. It already is.”

                Once he was out of his prison, Bilbo scurried to hide himself behind a nearby shard of rock jutting out of the new pile of gold. He had lost sight of the Arkenstone during that mess. Where could it possibly be now? He dared not look. Should the dragon notice his movement, a glance could spell is demise.

                Bilbo noticed briefly that his head hurt quite a bit in the back, but he had other things to notice when he heard and felt the thudding of Smaug’s great feet moving. He had to be heading toward him. He needed to move! Bilbo rushed to a larger carved area and hid in the middle. He imagined without all the gold this would have been a courtyard of sorts. Maybe even with some potted plants.

                “You are being used, thief,” Smaug hissed. His voice was closer now. Bilbo could see his massive feet just beyond the area where he hid. And then suddenly Smaug’s head came into view. He lowered it down to see his uninvited guest, no doubt. “What did Oakenshield promise you? A share of the treasure?” Bilbo scooted himself farther away from the beast just as Smaug laughed. It was a frightening sound. Much too loud. Bilbo was sure he’d be deaf if he survived this ordeal. “As if it was his to give away as he pleases… I will not part with a single coin. **Not. One. Piece. Of it**.” Smaug was shifting again, several mounds of coins shifting with him. Bilbo sank a little when his pile of coins fell to adjust for the rise elsewhere.

                Bilbo remained where he was and remained silent as he could. His heavy breathing was loud, though, and he wished he could control it. Smaug lowered his head again. One giant eye was peering in at him. Bilbo tried to cower into a smaller form than he already was.

                “Tell me, then, thief,” Smaug hissed again, teeth showing, “What can you possibly hope to gain? When all that coward used you for was distraction and death?”

                Bilbo shook his head. He was not going to answer. Smaug’s eye was scanning where he was. Bilbo gave the talking a second thought. If it would keep the dragon from trying to find a way to get to him, he would answer anything.

                “I-I,” Smaug’s eye flicked back to him, “I h-had hoped,” his voice was so breathy. He swallowed, but his mouth felt so dry, “I had hoped, oh Smaug, to, to simply experience all that life has to offer!” He was scrambling for an answer. He needed to keep it vague. If Smaug asked him what he meant it would be more time for Bilbo not to be eaten or roasted alive. He had heard dragons enjoyed riddles and stories, but Smaug seemed more in the eating type mood.

                Smaug chuckled and Bilbo felt the air shake. “You certainly have experienced life,” he growled out, “And now Oakenshield has sent you to your death. How fitting.”

                Bilbo whimpered. Smaug appeared to be getting bored with him. He quickly stammered out something more, “I-I had wanted to have stories!” He was blubbering now, fiddling with his ring in his hand, “I w-wanted… I wanted to tell my sister… I-impress… neighbors.” He was watching Smaug, hoping the dragon might become interested. He wasn’t looking at him, though. The massive red and golden eye was looking around inside his hiding place, probably finding weak points. “S-something more than the stories of an old wizard…”

                The eye returned to him and narrowed. “You are not a wizard,” Smaug hissed.

                “I… N-no, but I-I know one!” Bilbo squeaked. “H-he is a very good and very wise man!”

                Smaug moved one foot out forward, claws sinking deep into the gold. “Go on…” Now Bilbo had his interest.

                “H-he is the grey wizard,” he said, “He is one of five… Th-there are the two blue wizards, the um… Sarumon, the-the-the, the uh, the white… And a uh… A brown wizard who does not seem a very wise wizard at all.” Smaug’s claws shifted, sending a small wave of coins into the cavern where Bilbo sat. Bilbo wished he were home. Safe in his chair reading his books and smoking his pipe. “I-I’ve only met the two…”

                Smaug turned his head away at a sudden noise. Bilbo had heard it as well, but it was faint. It almost sounded like the flutter of paper. There certainly were no books anywhere Bilbo had seen. Bilbo could hear the sound of Smaug sniffing the air. He must have determined the sound was harmless, because the massive head turned back toward him again. And before Bilbo could really process it, the giant teeth latched onto the outer edge of the carven stone pillar near him.

                Bilbo scrambled to put on his ring as Smaug began ripping pillars off, sending massive amounts of coins tumbling down to fill the holes, pulling the poor Hobbit closer to massive teeth. Once he was out of sight, Bilbo hurried toward the only opening he had away from the dragon. He rushed out from his hiding place and attempted to hurry away with stealth. But all the commotion the beast was causing sent much rubble and gold flying, and a large rock struck Bilbo upon the back of the head. He let out a cry of pain and began to tumble down the hill of treasure.

                Smaug had heard his cry and was immediately heading in his direction. No doubt he could see the path Bilbo’s tumbling left in the gold. He opened his wings and allowed himself to glide to the bottom of the pile before his invisible thief did.

                Bilbo landed in an awkward position, one leg over one arm, but did not move. Coins were still falling and rolling down after him. If he remained still perhaps the dragon wouldn’t pinpoint where he landed. Luck appeared not to be on poor Bilbo’s side. A large golden cup fell and hit him, bouncing back and drawing the dragon’s eye. He could see the vicious grin on the monster’s face.

                “Aahh… There you are,” the beast purred, head lowering close to where Bilbo hid.

                The tiny Hobbit righted himself and quickly pulled off his ring. “Oh, Smaug,” he quickly began, standing and backing away from the beast, “Y-you startled me. Tearing away the pillars in such a way. I feared I would be sucked down into the treasure again.” Smaug was following him with soft steps, or as soft as a beast his size could step. An escape was looking very unlikely.

                “I don’t think so,” Smaug growled, breath washing over Bilbo, making the Hobbit gag, “But by all means, do continue trying to deceive me. I do so enjoy this little game.”

                Bilbo backed himself into a pillar. Fear took him long enough for the dragon to turn his head and stare him down with one large eye. Bilbo quickly pushed himself back around the carved edge and into a small divot in the column. “T-tell me, oh Smaug the… fearsome,” he saw the eye narrow when he paused, “Do-do dragons like games?”

                Smaug made a noise, hot air puffing from his nostril, but he gave no answer. Bilbo had to do something. He rolled his ring in his hand. He could try to make a break for it if he really hurried. He just needed something to distract the beast for another moment.

                “I-I played a game not long ago,” Bilbo continued, voice shaking with fear, “W-with a terrific creature that called itself by two names.” Smaug tilted his head and Bilbo saw the widening of the massive pupil, getting a better look at him where he cowered.

                “And what,” Smaug hissed, “Did it call itself, by chance?”

                “It…” Bilbo backed up into a different divot. “It called itself G-gollum I think… and-and and… And Precious…?” He himself wasn’t sure. “B-but it did call itself ‘we’ and ‘us’ while we played our game!”

                Smaug’s eyes narrowed again. “And what game did you play with this creature?”

                “I-it was…” Bilbo took in a deep breath. His legs were shaking. “It was a game of riddles.” He remembered how frightened he had been during the game. If he went back now, after having met the giant beast that was Smaug, surely Bilbo would not be so afraid of the ugly blue eyed creature. Smaug looked to be losing interest. “The-the stakes were that either it would show me the way out or-or it would…” Bilbo swallowed, suddenly realizing the irony, “Or it would eat me whole.”

                Smaug laughed and Bilbo had to clutch the rock to stay standing. “How very peculiar,” he growled, looking at the little Hobbit, “Somehow you have managed to find yourself in the exact same place, Barrel Rider.” Bilbo didn’t argue. It really was very similar. Either he walks off scot- free or he gets eaten alive.

                The dragon moved its head closer and Bilbo quickly jumped back around the corner of the square column. He shouldn’t have. He heard Smaug growl and only had seconds to put on his ring and run before the column was toppled.

                He stumbled at the way it shook the earth around him, but he kept running. He needed to get away. Anywhere the dragon couldn’t get to him. He decided to just run toward the place he entered from. That was the only exit he knew of. As he continued running he heard the dragon’s roars and felt the heat of the flames it spewed. He had to keep running.

                When he finally reached the area he entered from, he felt his legs give out and he collapsed to his knees. The entire area was covered by the horde. All the gold must have fallen and shifted when Smaug first knocked the large pillar down. It would take him days to clear the area!

                He gasped, pulling his hand up to his face. What of the dwarves? Were they trying to find him? What if they had been crushed by the avalanche? Bilbo’s fears clouded his mind. He did not hear the distant thudding of the dragon coming around the corner.

                And his fears were his downfall. As Bilbo knelt there, Smaug sent forth a great wave of flame that managed just to reach him. He shrieked as the fire bit the soles of his feet.

                Fighting every instinct that told him to just curl up and tend to his pain, Bilbo crawled on hand and knee as quickly as he could up into a small crevice near the roof of the cavern. The dragon had rushed to where Bilbo just had been, sending even more gold into the entryway, blocking his escape further.

                Bilbo used his hand to cover his mouth as tears rolled down his face. He took off the ring and whimpered in the small crack. The feeling in his feet was worse than the heat of the fire. The burn lingered and stung into his nerves. It dug and gouged into the muscle and made him feel the need to vomit. Pain shot up into every inch of his legs. He wanted to scream openly but knew it would only mean death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer refuses to recognize that I added the word Smaug to my dictionary. It's constantly saying that it's spelled wrong.  
> ALSO- I can't stand when stories ship two characters and just throw away the main competition. Like when people ship Baggisnhield and throw Smaug in the shitter or toss Bofur out like a rag. Like, that's fine if you ship your ship, but at least acknowledge other people reading and seeing your tags (Especially if you added those ships in your relaitonship tags like a jerkwad.) might be really upset by the fact that you're dragging one of their favorite characters through the dirt. That bothers me so much. So yes, to let you all know, even though it is a Bilbo/Smaug story, I'm not throwing Thorin under the bus. AND I'M ALSO NOT PUTTING THORIN AND BILBO IN THE SHIP TAG BECAUSE THAT'S NOT MY MAIN SHIP AND I DON'T WANT TO GIVE PEOPLE FALSE HOPE. I have eyes. I could see they at least had a bond. If you were hoping for me to dump the idea of that under the rug, I'm not. And I'm not going to bash Bagginshield either. I can see why people ship it. Thorin's still very much a big part of Bilbo's life. He is getting his deserved time in the story. (Just give it time and you'll see what I mean.)


	7. Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doo-doo-doo-de-doo

                The little Hobbit had only been hiding for a few seconds before he heard the dragon smelling for him just outside. He continued to stifle his whimpers and sobs with his hand. Each tiny movement of his feet sent another shockwave of pain through him. He could feel the pulse of his heart beating in every inch of his feet. It physically shook his body. What would he do? He was a Hobbit! He needed his feet! He could not wear shoes or socks or remain on bed-rest for the rest of his life. He had to walk and run from the dragon currently looking for him. He had to help the company. He had to travel back to the Shire after this was all over. Would a burn like this ever heal properly?

                The tears rolling down his face had finally stopped, but now his eyes twinged with the salt. He hoped the smell of his cooked flesh was not so tempting that the fire drake would eat him the minute he found him. Even if Smaug found him, where was he to go? He could not run and he could not dig the gold away from the entry. He was trapped.

                He heard that strange hissing that Smaug seemed to emit without knowing and lifted his eyes to the opening of the crack he hid in. Smaug’s massive eye peered inside and a sob broke past Bilbo’s hand.

                He had to be strong. He had to say something. What would the dwarves do in his place? Dwalin would not be so afraid. Bofur would try to keep a happy thought in his head. And Balin would be smart and try to think a way out of this mess.

                “Is this where you entered?” Smaug’s voice was slightly muffled by the small airspace and the blocking rock, but Bilbo heard him easy. “You and your filthy dwarf friends?”

                “Th-they did not,” Bilbo bit his lower lip at the spike of pain in the soles of his feet, “They did not come in after me. We.. we did not wish to offend you, your magnificence.”

                Smaug’s eye narrowed. “You are injured,” the hiss made Bilbo curl in on himself, “Why not just accept your fate?”

                Bilbo shook his head. Gasping, trying to stay conscious past the increasing pain, he said, “N-no, no, I… I would rather live to tell young ones about how I received my disabling injury.” He wanted to have stories. He had been saying that since he got brought on this quest. “I-I can live with burns covering my feet.”

                The great eye flicked to observe Bilbo’s feet now. He couldn’t see them very well in the dark crevice, but he imagined they were covered with peeling, bleeding red welts. He heard Smaug hissing again.

                “How many dwarves accompanied you?” the drake asked. Bilbo didn’t expect much else. Why would a dragon care about injuring what would most likely become its next meal? He cared more about the threat to his treasure.

                Shaking, Bilbo replied, “Only thirteen… Hardly enough to even bother you in your shimmering home.” Smaug’s eye was focused solely on his face. Bilbo could still see it, but his vision was beginning to blur. Why was the burn getting worse? Shouldn’t it have cooled by now?

                “Oakenshield…” Bilbo lifted his head a little at the familiar name. “He sent you in here for the Arkenstone didn’t he?”

                Bilbo began trying to stammer out a response, but his voice faded with his vision and he fainted from the pain.

                When he woke he thought he surely must have been dead. He had let down his guard within reach of a fire-breathing monster! Smaug certainly would have set him ablaze, wouldn’t he?

                But he was not. He was still alive. Why…? Smaug easily could have roasted him while he slept.

                Carefully the tiny Hobbit adjusted himself and crawled toward the opening on his knees. He peered out and saw the great beast lying atop the golden horde, tail swishing back and forth, pushing golden coins into the entryway. Before Bilbo could think better and pull back to hide again, the fiery eyes lifted and looked directly up at him. Gasping, Bilbo jumped back into his hole.

                But he jumped too fast. His foot scraped along the rock surface and the tender flesh was easily sliced open. With a shriek, he fell to his side inside the crack and yanked his knees up close to his chest. He groaned with the pain.

                He felt the hot breath of air from the opening. Scrambling to sit up again, Bilbo looked at the beast. He could see the glowing eye looking in at him.

                “Who has Oakenshield brought with him?” Smaug asked, “The wizard you spoke of?”

                Gaping, wide eyes blinking, Bilbo had no answer. He was sure Smaug would burn him or use his teeth to rip him from the hole in the wall. But he just wanted him for… information?

                Swallowing, Bilbo shook his head side to side. Smaug’s eyes narrowed. “Who then?” his low voice growled, “Which of his warriors?”

                “I…” Bilbo pushed himself up a little more to look at Smaug. “I don’t…” he didn’t know for sure who was a warrior. Balin had told a story about going into battle, but he didn’t really mention names other than Thorin… Maybe Dwalin? “I am not sure how many have seen battle… He brought Balin and Dwalin with him on his quest…” In hindsight, Bilbo really shouldn’t be telling the dragon this.

                The dragon pulled his head back, eyes narrowed. “I do not know these warriors,” he said. They must not have fought the dragon after he took Erebor, then; Bilbo decided. Maybe the fight was just with Azog.

                “Do you know of Azog?” Bilbo asked, still frightened, but not in as much terrible pain now as he was before. “The two of them did battle against him and his army of orcs.”

                Smaug scowled and made a noise of disgust at that. Obviously he did not like orcs any more than he liked dwarves. The great red dragon turned his head away and Bilbo heard the sound of coins shifting. Smaug chuckled.

                “Your little dwarf friends have been trying to gain entrance into the mountain for some time now.” Bilbo sat upright. Smaug turned his head to look in at him. “It really is quite amusing.”


	8. Food

                Bilbo wasn’t sure how long he had been hiding in the little hole in the rock wall. It had to at least have been several hours, for he had fallen asleep again and woke to find Smaug still moving mounds of gold into the entry and laughing about it. He still couldn’t figure out why he was still alive. Smaug couldn’t need that much more information out of him, could he? He was only a Hobbit. He hardly knew much of anything. He wouldn’t question it, though. He would stay hidden and wait to see what the beast would do. So far, not much besides enjoying his sabotage.

                His feet still hurt quite badly, especially if anything touched them, but it was at least tolerable now. He wasn’t fainting every waking moment anymore.

                He stared out the opening of his hiding place constantly. Always waiting for that great eye to peer in at him or for the mouth to spit fire inside. Occasionally Smaug would check that he was still there, but he wasn’t doing anything with him. He was just leaving him be. It didn’t make any sense.

                Finally the shifting of metal stopped. Bilbo sat where he hid, still staring. And then he saw an orange glow. Memories crashed into him at the warm light. “Mother…”

                He crawled forward, eyes trained on the orange glow. “Mother, it’s a dragon.” Suddenly Bilbo found himself looking right into a different orange glow. Smaug’s eye stared back at him and Bilbo stopped his crawl.

                “What did you say?” the dragon asked. Bilbo just swallowed and backed up a little ways into the hole again.

                “I-I didn’t say anything,” he replied, once he felt a safe distance away, “Oh-oh Smaug, your grace.”

                The dragon’s eye narrowed and his head pulled back. Bilbo exhaled in relief. All too soon.

                All at once the dragon’s enormous teeth began biting at the hole he was hiding in. Smaug ripped away large chunks of the rock. He tossed them aside and tore the crevice open wide. Bilbo wanted to scream.

                Now the dragon was able to fit a portion of his snout into Bilbo’s only safe place. The great serpent’s tongue stretched in and it took all of Bilbo’s strength to pull himself far away from it and not allow it to touch him. The very end brushed his foot and Bilbo didn’t put up his hand fast enough to stifle his yelp. The dragon pulled back.

                Looking in at him, Smaug looked unhappy. But to Bilbo, it was hard to tell if the dragon was ever happy other than when he was laughing. Bilbo swallowed.

                “A-are you going to eat me?” he asked outright, fear making him tremble terribly.

                Smaug growled before turning away and settling back in the treasure horde. Bilbo heard more gold shifting. Could he not break the rock open any more? Bilbo was so happy with his luck. The beast seemed to prefer his food fresh and alive.

                “What did Oakenshield promise you?” the voice was far away, but it was loud.

                Bilbo frowned at the dragon’s question. “An adventure,” he answered. He wasn’t going to tell him that Thorin promised him a portion of profit. He would not risk angering the beast again.

                He heard the dragon snarl. “Don’t lie to me,” the deep voice snapped, “What did he promise you?”

                “Nothing,” Bilbo said, “If you do not wish to believe me when I am telling you the truth, then he offered me absolutely nothing in return for helping him.” It most likely was not in his best self-preserving interest to berate the dragon, but Bilbo was not going to let this beast think he was weak willed enough to give in to everything it wanted. He would not fall under Dragon-Spell.

                He heard nothing for a while. And he only saw the normal wall a ways across from his hole for a while. But Smaug rose up into his vision again, growling at him.

                “You asked if I was going to eat you,” the monster said, “To answer your question, yes. I plan to eat you.” Bilbo flinched back, holding himself. Smaug was grinning. Bilbo could see the hideous contortion of his face. The bend of scales, the reveal of pointed teeth bigger than his head. The sight alone was enough to make him grimace.

                “But I do so love playing with my food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, my only real note is just asking for people to point out spelling errors. I go through my story before I post each chapter ad I always find that I missed something. Spell check is terrible and broken.


	9. Almugin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to do a bit of research before writing this chapter. Tolkien was really extensive in his world building. Dang...

                Bilbo tried to ignore the rumbling of his stomach. He really did. But after two days of being stuck up in the hole in the wall with no way out and no way to get food, he was beginning to think trying to sneak out would be a good idea. His tender feet said otherwise.

                He had been watching the dragon and his schedule of doing things. Often times he would just lie in the gold, doing nothing. Bilbo didn’t know if he was asleep, but he was beginning to be willing to take the risk. He couldn’t stay in there. If Smaug planned to eat him, then remaining there was just presenting him with an easy to catch meal.

                After thinking over a plan for nearly an hour, Bilbo slipped on the ring. He crawled forward and picked up a small chunk of the rock from the wall that Smaug had torn apart. Carefully easing himself out of the hole and onto the gold, he took the rock and threw it as hard as he could. It hit and sent a massive amount of gold tumbling into a sort of rock slide just behind Smaug.

                The dragon lifted his head to look and Bilbo took his chance to begin crawling away. As he did, he made sure to throw coins and cups and anything else he could behind him, to try and confuse the beast as to where he was.

                Smaug snarled, rising up and shoving his snout into the golden mound. He tossed his head back and sent treasure flying everywhere. He proceeded to do this in a long line down the side of the pile. Bilbo was sent flying. Unfortunately, even a little Hobbit is heavier than gold coins. He flew, hitting Smaug’s back, and then landed among the overturned gold still falling around him. The moment Smaug felt his weight bounce off him, he stopped.

                The long neck slowly turned toward where Bilbo now cowered on hand and knee. He could try to run, but with the condition his feet were in, there was no telling how far he would get. He chose to stay frozen where he was and hope the dragon couldn’t find him among the treasure.

                Bilbo could hear Smaug scenting the air again. Could see the flaring of his nostrils. He wondered if the dwarves could hear him on the other side of the gold horde. He heard him growling.

                “I know you are there, Thief,” he hissed, head craning down closer to the gold, “Would you rather I find you or shall you reveal yourself?”

                Bilbo inhaled sharply. Now or never. He forced himself onto his feet and blistering pain stabbed into him everywhere there was a coin. He ran.

                The dragon immediately roared in anger, following him and throwing gold every way he could. His massive claws smashed down into the treasure, trying to stomp out the scampering invisible thief.

                Each step made Bilbo feel like he was walking on fire. He was sure he was screaming, though he could not hear himself over the deafening roar of the dragon. He could not run much farther. He needed to find a space to hide. He needed rest. He needed food. He needed to soothe the pain in his feet.

                The Hobbit had to stop before he felt like he had made enough progress. He ducked underneath a rocky canopy and hid behind a pillar, removing the ring and dropping off his feet. Essentially he collapsed, groaning with the pain.

                He finally had enough light to see his feet properly. And they were a gruesome sight. No doubt he had left bloody prints for Smaug to follow.

                He forced his arms to turn himself so he could see out from under the rock. Smaug’s snout was lowered, sniffing the tiny red spots dotting the surface of the golden horde. His gaze followed the prints until Bilbo knew Smaug was looking at him once more.

                “A noble effort,” he said, slithering toward his hiding place, “But wasted, really…” His head tilted, Smaug peered in at Bilbo’s tiny huddled form. “You have made your injury worse and you have moved yourself to a space much easier to reach.” Smaug demonstrated how much easier by clawing at some of the gold, digging down just enough so that he could reach his talons in and wiggle them around. Bilbo sobbed.

                “Please,” he begged, tears blurring his vision, “Have mercy, your Magnificence. I pose no threat to you or your treasure. You have blocked my only exit and I’m far too injured to run.” He hid his face, letting his tears roll into the spaces between the golden coins. “Surely you can erase me once I am a threat again.”

                Smaug made a low growling noise. “Easily, yes,” the fire drake said, “I could snuff out your life without even thinking about it.”

                Bilbo thought of his father. “You… you could crush me underfoot without even realizing I was ever there,” he said, repeating his father’s warning. The strange purr Smaug made after that let Bilbo know that Smaug took that as a compliment. Bilbo smiled a little, well, more of a grimace with the agony in his feet. “That’s what my father told me,” he said, looking back at the great eye peering in at him. The soft hissing noise was back. “I was fascinated by dragons as a boy. I had seen one… once,” he couldn’t force himself to sit up, he remained on his side, “It flew over the hills… Set the forest. The embers fell everywhere.” He laughed quietly. “I thought it had set the rain on fire back then. I didn’t know any better…”

                Smaug had settled as Bilbo told his story. Dragons did like stories. Balin had not been wrong. If your story interested them, a dragon would listen to you speak until you were finished.

                Bilbo hummed to himself. “Actually, I never saw the dragon… All I saw was the glow of the fire in its underbelly.”

                Smaug watched him in silence a while after he finished talking. “How long ago did you see this dragon?” His question was quiet, spoken in a soft voice that Bilbo had not thought possible for a beast his size.

                “Forty four years now,” the Hobbit replied, “Adding the year I’ve been on this quest.”

                Smaug’s eyes weren’t looking at him anymore, they were flicking around, possibly searching for a memory. Bilbo found it was searching for a name when Smaug said, “Almugin. He tried to take this mountain for himself.”

                Bilbo didn’t think he had to ask, but he did anyway. “Did you kill him?”

                “No,” Smaug replied, to Bilbo’s surprise, “The fool attacked too many cities of men during his travel here. He was brought down at the hand of men close enough that I heard him perish in my flight.”

                Bilbo was surprised, truly. So the dragon he had seen was called Almugin. It was an odd name to hear, considering he had never heard of the fire drake. He must not have been well known to men for him to never have heard any stories.

                Bilbo’s stomach growled and he curled further into himself. Maybe he could sleep the hunger off. Would Smaug let him sleep now that he could get to him easily? He didn’t know. Right now he was too hungry to really care.


	10. We're Called Hobbits

                Bilbo had nearly gotten up to run away again when Smaug left him. He had not been expecting the beast to walk away. He had more expected to be eaten. But he remembered his feet and knew trying to flee he would surely end up dripping blood somewhere. So he just lay there in pain.

                When the dragon returned a large mound of what looked like weeds dropped down in front of his feet. His snout pushed the mound under the rocky covering and his claws dug out the gold so that it would move in easily. The confused Hobbit pushed himself up into a slight sitting position.

                “What…?” his voice was weak and he had to clear his throat.

                Smaug’s head lowered down beside the mound of vegetation. “It is from the garden,” he said, “There should be something edible inside this mess…”

                Bilbo was upright now. “There’s a garden?” He hadn’t heard any stories about it.

                The dragon nodded. “There is, though it is massively overgrown,” his voice rumbled low and Bilbo felt the shiver in the gold below him, “Occasionally a bird flies in. Not much, but it is a nice snack.” Bilbo understood that meant Smaug ate the birds that would enter his mountain. So he didn’t just sleep for fifty years straight.

                He didn’t move toward the pile of plants, though. He didn’t trust the hospitality of a dragon. “Why are you giving this to me?”

                Smaug huffed and blew forth a small ball of fire. “I would prefer that you’re still alive when I kill all your little dwarf friends.”

                …

                …

                “Ah.” Bilbo wasn’t sure how to take that. Should he be grateful the dragon wanted to keep him alive or should he be offended he only wanted him alive so he could make him suffer at the death of his friends?

                “Are you going to eat it or not?” Smaug suddenly snapped, “I could eat you now and spare myself the trouble, if you wish.”

                Bilbo quickly crawled forward, apologizing to his ‘magnificence’. It took him a while to dig through all the weeds, but eventually the little Hobbit found a few squash type plants. He broke the first one open using a large gem shard.

                Looking back at the dragon, Bilbo wondered about the blue haired man. “Has a dragon ever placed an enchantment on a man?”

                Smaug looked offended by the question, rearing his head back and snarling.

                “I mean you no offense!” Bilbo quickly said, “I merely asked because I once met a man with blue hair that said he had been enchanted by a Stone Dragon.”

                Now Smaug laughed. “That man was a filthy liar,” the beast said, not lowering his head back down but still talking, “Even if he were enchanted, a Stone Dragon could not alter his appearance like that! They are too weak.”

                “But all dragons are magic, yes?”

                Now Smaug lowered his head to glower in at the Hobbit. “Yes,” he replied, voice cold. Bilbo swallowed down his bite of food and nodded slowly.

                After a long time of silence Bilbo finally decided he would ask another question. Looking at Smaug’s giant eye, he started weakly, “A-are you…” He stopped himself and thought how to phrase his question. “Are there others like you?”

                “What do you mean?” Smaug’s reply sounded bored.

                “I… What I mean is,” Bilbo shifted himself, “Are you the last fire-drake?”

                Smaug’s head turned away from him for a moment. “You are a strange creature with all your questions,” he said. Bilbo hoped being strange would keep him alive. If he amused the dragon maybe it would keep him as a sort of pet. “No, I am not the last fire drake… I am merely the last _great_ fire drake.”

                “What is the difference?” the little Hobbit asked, “Your age and size?”

                Smaug blew a small puff of smoke out of his nose. “In some ways, yes.” Bilbo expected more of an answer, but that was all he got. Now Smaug turned and asked him a question. “What are you? What is your kind called?”

                Bilbo thought about it for a moment. If Smaug did end up dead there was no real harm in telling him what he was called. And even if the beast lived, he would only know a name, not a place. “Hobbit,” he answered, “I’m a Hobbit.”

                The drake scowled. Bilbo added at the end, “We’re often called Halflings or Half-talls by men and elves.”

                Another puff of smoke. “Understandable. You are no bigger than a dwarf.”

                “Dwarves don’t think much of us,” Bilbo said, drawing Smaug’s gaze, “Most creatures don’t think much of us… We’re quiet. We keep to our homes and don’t often leave.” He held a squash in his hands and turned it a few times. “We aren’t warriors. Mostly we’re gardeners… bakers… tradesmen… simply jobs that don’t require much physical strength. Nobody really thinks of us as anything more than food-makers.”

                Smaug’s scaly lips twisted into that terrifying smile. “And yet here you are. So far from home. Trapped with a great fire breathing dragon. Awaiting an inevitable death.”

                Bilbo found himself smiling at the macabre jibe. He looked at the plant in his hands. “Amongst Hobbits I don’t really fit in,” he said, “I’ve always been… odd.” The dragon blew a ring of smoke at him and Bilbo had nearly screamed, thinking it was fire. Once again he heard the dragon laugh. A deep, low sound that made the air tremble and ring in Bilbo’s ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! I love hearing from people. Nobody's really said anything yet... I'm assuming you like it, since there's kudos...?


	11. A Dragon's Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still lots of research went into this chapter...

                Bilbo had been terrified for a long time after Smaug first decided to stay next to his hiding spot. But eventually, seeing that the dragon was not even attempting to go after him, he calmed down. And since he had calmed all the Hobbit was doing was staring at the great fire drake. Smaug didn’t seem to mind, as he kept glancing back over at little Bilbo and not saying anything whenever he caught him staring. He was probably so full of himself that he found it flattering.

                He truly was a magnificent beast. Bilbo couldn’t help himself from thinking that if Smaug were a man he would look like a proud ruler. Actually, if Smaug did take the form of a man or a dwarf, even, he probably would be looked upon as a king. A cruel king, but a king nonetheless. He had taken one of the most powerful kingdoms in Middle Earth singlehandedly. The only reason he was so feared was because of what he was. Naturally, though.

                If Smaug were just a man he would never have been able to take Erebor. But if he had taken it as a man, people would have looked at the mountain as his victory and his right. Like Thorin would once he regained the mountain from the beast.

                Bilbo’s feet had finally stopped bleeding entirely now, but he still couldn’t really walk on them. It hurt too much. He wished he knew some way to heal such extensive burns. He really wished he had Elves with him.

                “Oakenshiled has attempted to take back this mountain before,” Smaug said, surprising Bilbo. He hadn’t spoken in quite a while. The silence had been… peaceful. The dragon’s eye looked to the little Hobbit. “Had he told you of that?”

                Bilbo nodded. “Yes. That was when he and the others fought Azog and his army,” he said. “You knew of it?”

                Smaug looked away again. “I only heard the shouting and smelled the blood. It wasn’t worth my time to go see what all the fuss was about.” He sounded so bored by it. “I could hear the Orcs shrieking of ‘Oakenshield, son of the king’ from where I slept. I was almost tempted to set them ablaze just hearing them speak.”

                Bilbo could imagine a dragon would do a thing like that. They were notoriously cruel and short tempered. Everything he had ever heard about the beasts, Smaug was proving true. All except that a dragon would kill him on sight. He must have amused the mighty creature for him to allow the Hobbit to live so long. He had even helped make sure he would stay alive. Perhaps after near fifty years of no one around, the dragon was lonely. He certainly would be if he spent near his entire life alone.

                Bilbo shifted his legs around and yelped when his foot scraped against a gem shard. He needed to be more careful. He was making his injury worse.

                The dragon’s head lazily dragged along the top of the golden horde, spreading and flattening out any waves in the treasure. His eyes looked at his uninvited guest. “Show me your wounds,” he said.

                Bilbo had almost immediately started listening. But he caught himself and stopped. “Why?”

                Smaug snarled and Bilbo quickly crawled over to the edge of rock outcrop. He stuck his feet out from under and looked at the monster. The Hobbit gaped as Smaug raised his head and fat drops of pure liquid gold began falling from one of his great eyes. When they hit his feet he felt a tingling and an immediate soothing relief to the sting in his soles.

                He had never seen anything like that. The liquid looked like gold, but felt cool like water. Were those a dragon’s tears?

                Smaug righted his head and blinked down at the little Hobbit. Bilbo looked at his feet and wiggled his toes. The welts and cuts were gone. It looked like they had never even been there. Why had Smaug….?

                He looked up at the dragon, who was still just blinking down at him. He didn’t understand.

                “Are your wounds healed?” Smaug asked, now sounding and looking irritated. Bilbo squeaked out a terrified ‘yes’ and yanked his feet back in toward his body. The drake lowered his head back down and stared at Bilbo.

                Bilbo swallowed. “C-can all dragons do that?” he asked, frightened.

                Smaug made a growling hum noise before saying, “No. Stone dragons do not have the strength…”

                Bilbo looked at his feet and sighed. “I wish I had a vial so that I might bottle up a small amount,” he said. Smaug looked at him curiously. “One among our company was very ill when we left him. He was poisoned by an arrow…” Bilbo thought of poor Kili, guilt making tears well in his own eyes, “For all I know he could be dead already…”

                He felt a huff of hot air ruffle his hair and he looked up at the dragon. “A dwarf’s life is hardly worth crying over,” he said.

                Bilbo scowled. “That’s easy for you to say! You’ve eaten dozens of them! He was my friend!” He was unhappy. So much so that he was yelling at a dragon. His face fell and he looked at his legs, sorrow gripping him again. “One of the first real friends I’ve ever had…”

                Smaug growled. “He is still just a dwarf.” Bilbo chose to ignore him. He wiped his leaking eyes against the sleeve of is robe and thought of poor Kili. Maybe he had healed. Maybe the others had found a way to save him. He wanted to be hopeful for his life. Just like he wanted to be hopeful for his escape.

                The dragon frightened him. He may have gotten used to his moment of peace, but there was still no way of knowing when the dragon would grow bored of him. Every moment he was on edge, ready to grab the ring and run. He had every reason to be frightened.


	12. Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me too much. It will all make sense as the story goes on.

                Bilbo had been honestly surprised when Smaug got up out of the blue and walked away. He didn’t say a word, didn’t say where he was going, if he was coming back, nothing. And Bilbo took that to his advantage. He hurried away, trying to remember where he last saw the Arkenstone. Even if Smaug found him wandering perhaps he could lie his way out of it.

                He was just coming around a corner, near a hallway of carven stone, when he found Smaug. The dragon spotted him easily and Bilbo saw his eyes narrow.

                “I did not give you permission to leave,” he snarled, “What were you doing?”

                “N-nothing!” he stammered, stepping back as the dragon began to approach him. “I… I was just looking for you!”

                “Liar…!” The dragon hissed. Bilbo didn’t have time to try and argue.

                Smaug’s belly began to glow. Inhaling sharply, Bilbo pulled out his ring. The stream of fire went shooting his way just as he got the ring on, and he ran. He heard Smaug roaring as he sprinted back toward the entryway. He had to get out of here. He had pressed his luck too far. Smaug was going to kill him.

                He found the entryway partially cleared away. And standing at the highest point atop the golden horde was Thorin! His little Hobbit heart leapt in his chest. His friends! They were looking for him!

                “Thorin!” he called happily, yanking off the ring before he looked to him.

                The dwarf king rushed to him. “You’re alive,” he said, putting his hand on Bilbo’s arm. As Bilbo heard the shouts of the other dwarves from the bottom of the golden mountain, Thorin asked, “Did you find the Arkenstone?”

                “Thorin, we don’t have time, the dragon’s comi-“

                “The Arkenstone.” Thorin stopped him from trying to climb down to his friends. His face had fallen cold and angry. Bilbo took a step back. He looked at his fried, confused. “Did you find it?”

                Bilbo swallowed. “Thorin, we have to get out of here.” Just as he said it, Thorin pointed his sword at him. He had to take several steps back. Thorin advanced upon him, eyes empty and hollow. It was like he didn’t recognize him. “Th-Thorin…”

                Bilbo heard the other dwarves starting to scramble up the treasure horde. But all he saw was Thorin’s empty face. He looked furious and blank at the same time. This was not his friend. Bilbo opened his mouth to speak to him again, but nothing came out. He eyes had caught sight of another threat.

                Now Thorin’s gaze followed Bilbo’s. There, coming around the corner was Smaug the Terrible in all his fury. His movements were slow, but Bilbo could hear the growl from where he stood. Quickly the little Hobbit backed behind Thorin, who still had his sword drawn and ready.

                And that was the moment the other dwarves made it to the top, cheering and yawping excitedly.

                They stopped, seeing the great dragon. A flash. A second. None moved. Time stood still. And then Smaug charged, roaring and nearly making them all go deaf. They turned and ran down a flight of stairs just as Smaug began spewing forth massive amounts of fire.

                He and the dwarves then ended up in a massive chase with the great dragon. They went to the farthest point inside the mountain’s chambers and back again. They ran and ran and ended up at the furnaces. Bilbo had tried to save Thorin from going the wrong way at one point, but had only ended up alerting Smaug to where they were and nearly getting the dwarf prince eaten.

                Once they were inside the furnaces, one unfortunate dwarf had said the bellows were stone cold and they had no fire hot enough to set them ablaze. Thorin took the phrase with a malicious grin. “Have we not?”

                He shouted to Smaug, who was crawling up from a mine deep in the mountain, “I did not look to see you so easily outwitted!” A massive claw emerged and gripped the rock. “You’ve grown slow and **fat** in your dotage!” Smaug’s head was now up and turned toward them, a deep growl coming from his throat. “Slug.”

                Bilbo’s stomach felt as though it fell into his feet. What was Thorin thinking? He didn’t have time to ask. They all had to take cover behind the massive metal bars blocking the dragon from the furnace. And Bilbo felt the familiar heat of dragonfire rushing all around him.

                The furnaces were lit, but their problems were not over. Smaug was trying to topple the metal bars just like he had toppled the stone pillars. Bilbo looked upon the act with a terrifying sense of familiarity. Thorin’s hand upon his arm was what brought him away from his staring. He was given a task.

                “On my signal, pull that lever,” Thorin ordered. Bilbo nodded as he ran toward the lever at the top of a massive staircase and carving. He stood up there and waited with baited breath as Smaug broke down the metal bars. They bent with a loud groan and Bilbo knew the dwarves would probably never be able to right them again.

                The dwarves began throwing flash bombs at the great beast and dropping rocks upon his head. It was utter chaos. He had thought Smaug had spotted him for a moment, but his attention was turned to Thorin. His growl sounded even more threatening than it had before. Smaug was going to kill them all.

                When Thorin shouted to him, Bilbo pulled the lever with all his weight. Openings in the walls, ancient water mills, began spitting forth a massive stream of water. Smaug’s fire in his gullet had been put out just in time for Thorin to run. Smaug tried to follow him, and his massive form began destroying the small spaces of the furnace.

                The ledge Bilbo stood upon was hit and shattered. Bilbo was sent tumbling, rolling across the stone ground. He faintly heard Thorin shouting to him to keep going, but he was more concerned with the dragon that was now stalking toward him.

                Bilbo quickly got to his feet. “S-Smaug!” he was backing up, his hands raised in front of his chest, “P-please, I didn’t mean for any of this!” The dragon’s eyes narrowed and he hissed monstrously at him. Bilbo turned and ran. He slid down a massive stone slide the dwarves must have built ages ago, and ran once he reached the bottom. Smaug directly on his tail the entire time. He felt the wind of his snapping teeth just missing him more times than he could count.

                He ran through an arched doorway, not really sure if this was the way to the room Thorin wanted the dragon to be in. He had only gotten so far before Smaug smashed through the wall above the door and sent the tapestries hanging from it tumbling down. Bilbo tried to run out of its path, but it landed over him and covered him.

                He used it to his advantage, though, as Smaug turned on him, snarling viciously. “You! Think you can deceive me, _Barrel Rider_!” Bilbo peeked out from under the tapestry, looking at the furious dragon. “You have lied through your teeth and abused my hospitality! Filthy _w_ _retch!_  You have come from Laketown!” Bilbo could see the wheels in the beast’s head beginning to turn. “This… This is some sordid scheme between these Filthy Dwarves and those miserable tub trading Lakemen!” Smaug’s head was turning away from Bilbo and back again as he growled. “Those sniveling cowards…! With their longbows and _Black Arrows_! Perhaps. It is time. I paid them. **A visit**.”

                Bilbo jumped up as the dragon turned away and started slinking away. “No, no, no, this isn’t their fault!” he started rushing after the fire drake, “Wait!” He shouted after him, “You cannot go to Laketown!”

                Smaug paused, making an odd noise, and turned again, moving toward the Hobbit. “You _care_ about them, do you?” He spoke, growling. His head came close, Bilbo felt the rush of the beast’s breath.

                “Good. Then you can watch them **die**.” And Smaug turned again, moving faster away from him.

                Bilbo scrambled after him. Still begging for the lives of the people of Laketown. “Please, no! Please, take me instead! Don’t hurt them! They’ve done nothing wrong!” But he went unheard. Thorin’s strong voice rung out across the room. And Smaug froze in his exit.

                The beast turned toward the dwarf prince, snarling, “ ** _You_**.”

                “I am taking back what you stole,” Thorin said, proud and brave. A sharp contrast to the begging, helpless Bilbo.

                Smaug approached the dwarf slowly. “You will take _nothing_ from me, dwarf!” Bilbo began rushing toward the stalking dragon but stopped behind another column of stone. “I laid low your warriors of old. _I_ instill terror in the hearts of men,” Smaug growled out, now just before Thorin and the massive stone shape he stood upon. Smaug began raising himself to match the Dwarf’s height. “ ** _I_** am **_King_** _Under the Mountain_.”

                “This is not your Kingdom. These are Dwarf lands. This is Dwarf gold!” Thorin’s hand reached up to hold a chain, “And we will have.. Our revenge.” Bilbo could not understand the Dwarvish he shouted after that, but he saw the others pulling on chains and the stones beginning to collapse. Smaug reared back as a monumental, shimmering, beautiful statue of gold was revealed. Thorin’s grandfather.

                And Bilbo saw Smaug lift himself back up, humming and purring at the sight, entranced by the gold. He gazed at it just before it began to bubble and wilt and melt. Soon a great rush of liquid gold descended upon the mighty beast. Smaug’s attempts to back away did nothing for him and the flow overpowered him. With an anguished cry, he sank into the gold.

                But the victory was short lived. He emerged from the gold, sending splashes of the molten stuff everywhere, erupting in a fearsome, deafening roar. “Revenge!?” Bilbo had to cover his ears, “ _Revenge?!_ ” The monster bellowed, “ **I** will show you **revenge**!”

                And even though Smaug was coated in the gold, he demolished the wall to the outside and stomped out into the night air.

                Bilbo only caught a glimpse of him as he ran toward the exit, but he saw the dragon, roaring in his agonized fury, rise off the ground. He saw golden petals spin and flutter and fall from the sky. He saw the golden casing peel away and the red scales of the dragon come back. He saw a beautiful winged creature soaring across the night sky, eclipsing the moon. And he saw the death of the people of Laketown.

                “What have we done…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now might be a good time for me to edit the tags


	13. This is Not Thorin

                Bilbo had been joined by the others not long after Smaug began his flight toward the innocent people of Laketown. They hadn’t said a word yet. They were all horrified by what had transpired.

                Quickly they all ran to a tall hill so that they might see if anyone survived the slaughter that was about to take place.

                “Once he is finished,” Bilbo said, looking at the form gliding across the navy blue sky, “Smaug will come back and kill all of us.”

                “But you survived in there for four days!” Bilbo turned to look at the one who had said that- Gloin.

                “Aye, that’s true,” Balin said.

                “How did you survive?” Dwalin asked, looking at poor Bilbo.

                The little Hobbit swallowed and shrugged. “He… he did not seem to find me threatening… He talked with me and even brought me food from the old garden,” he told them. When he saw the wide eyes of his friends he knew he should not have told them that. “He tried to eat me several times and burned my feet before he seemed to realize I couldn’t do anything, though!”

                “He brought you food?” Dwalin looked unconvinced. “Why? Why would a monster like that spare you even for a minute? What could you offer him?”

                “I-I do not know!” Bilbo replied, “Honest, I don’t! I had thought he was trying to poison me!”

                “He saved you…” Bilbo looked at Gloin and was ready to say something, but he heard the beginnings of faint screams and he turned back to the lake. His heart ached. So many innocent people were going to die. Because of him. He felt tears well up in his eyes.

                “Fili is down there… and Kili and Bofur and Oin…” he whispered. What of them? Were they all dead? There was no hope for them. There couldn’t be. He let tears roll down his cheeks. He was going to lose some of his only friends on this earth. And it was his own fault. He should never have come on this quest. He should have just stayed home. No one can hurt you when no one is close to you. No one to cry over when you have no one to care about.

                He and the others watched in sorrow as Smaug began burning the village on the lake. Poor Ori sank to the ground and sobbed while Balin comforted him. Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to move. He just watched as Smaug sent forth the first burst of flame. The town lit like the forest all those nights ago. He could hear his mother’s cries in the screams of the poor people. He could see the falling embers in the flames rising from the rooftops. His eyes watched the great beast destroying buildings and burning lives. Smaug’s great wings sent loose boards and objects flying in the night. Each time he spit forth fire, Bilbo saw the glow in his belly before the fire grew.

                It was only when Balin spoke that Bilbo turned away. He looked at his friends and felt such guilt. His eyes continued looking at them until they landed on Thorin’s back. The dwarf prince was not watching the carnage they all caused. Bilbo looked where he was facing. Thorin was just staring at the entrance to the mountain. Did he not care? Did he not understand what they had all done?

                Something was wrong with him. He had acted like he didn’t know who he was in there. He had looked so angry when he didn’t say he found the Arkenstone like he wanted. He looked like he was going to kill him for disappointing him. Bilbo had only been that frightened when facing off against the dragon. This was Throin. He was supposed to be his friend. He was supposed to trust him and confide in him. Why didn’t this feel like the same Thorin he knew?

                He looked back to the town. Smaug was in the center of the burning wreckage now. Bilbo didn’t know what was happening, but all at once Smaug charged forward and then rose into the air, wings flapping strangely. Something was wrong. Smaug climbed and climbed, higher and higher into the early morning sky. And then all at once- he fell.  Bilbo jumped forward as he saw the great mass plummet toward the town. The ground shook with the thud of his impact.

                Ori jumped up from where he sat. “What was that?”

                “It fell… I saw it,” Bilbo said, stepping forward again. “It’s dead.” The dwarves around him began gasping, excitement clear in the air. Bilbo turned to them. “Smaug is dead.”

                Thorin was already walking back toward the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I must officially edit the tags.


	14. King Under The Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry I've been gone! I actually had a breakdown on Monday, so that was fun and tearful. But after that I just got really busy with schoolwork. Filming and writing and painting and band.  
> Sorry. I'll try to keep up my schedule.  
> It's just kinda difficult.  
> Especially with scheduling coming up here. Registering for classes soon means shit to do.

                They spent days inside the mountain. Thorin forcing them all to search endlessly for the Arkenstone. He didn’t even care to know if his nephews were still alive. All he cared about was the stone. Bilbo felt like he was dealing with Smaug all over again. And with the way Thorin talked, he was beginning to think the two had traded places.

                He heard Smaug’s voice when Thorin spoke. He heard the hiss of the beast and saw the greed in his eyes. None of the others knew just what the Hobbit knew. It was obvious they were worried and saddened, but none of them truly understood like Bilbo did.

                “No one rests! Find the stone!” Thorin boomed, picking a crown from the horde and placing it upon his head.

                When Bilbo had wandered a distance away and heard Bofur’s familiar voice, terror rose in his throat like bile. He ran up the steps after the voice as fast as he could and called to them. “You need to leave,” he said, “We all need to leave!”

                “But we only just got here,” Bofur said, looking at him in confusion.

                “Please, we all need to leave. He doesn’t eat, he barely sleeps,” he was rambling, fear taking his thoughts and running with them.

                “Who?”

                “Thorin!” And like a curse, there Thorin appeared. A small ways below them, decorated in furs and jewels and golden trinkets of all sorts. This was not the same man he met a year ago. This wasn’t even the man he knew last week. This was not Thorin Oakenshield. This was a monster.

                Bilbo had tried reasoning with him, asking him if the treasure was really worth all this. And that was when Bilbo truly saw Smaug in him. He heard the great dragon’s voice. He was looking at a dragon.

                “I will not part with a single coin. **Not one piece of it**.” Bilbo trembled at the words.

                He had to get away from him. He went into an old chamber and found Balin alone, fresh tears in his whiskers. He tried to ask him what to do. He needed his wisdom. “Dagon sickness,” Balin said, “I’ve seen it before.” Bilbo heard the sadness in his voice. He wanted to help. He wanted to do something. His friend was turning into the beast that had nearly eaten him alive.

                “Balin,” he looked at his bearded friend, “If… If Thorin had the Arkenstone.” Balin turned to face him, he looked suspicious. Bilbo quickly rephrased what he was saying. “If-if it was found… Would it help?”

                Balin sighed and Bilbo had a feeling he already knew the answer. “No, laddie… I fear it would make him worse.”

                Bilbo went and sat alone often, thinking on how he could have prevented this from ever happening. Maybe he should have let the dragon eat him. Or maybe he should have never agreed to come on this adventure. It was all because he said yes that any of this ever happened. He sighed to himself. He shouldn’t have woke the dragon. He should have been more careful. Why had he even grabbed that cup in the first place? It didn’t look like a white jewel. He had been stupid.

                He grumbled to himself about everything before he felt inside his jacket pocket. Not even his jacket, actually, it was the one Bard had given to him in Laketown. Had Smaug been able to smell that on him? Maybe that was why he had been so sure they came from the small town.

                He ran his fingers over the oblong round gem. It wasn’t a perfect oval, but it was perfectly smooth. He had found the Arkenstone when Smaug had left him. It had taken him a while, but he had found it and quickly hidden it in his pocket. The beast had been none the wiser. And obviously neither was… He bit his lip. Thorin… The King Under the Mountain. He didn’t seem much a king now… He was a tyrant. On his way to becoming a monster like the fire drake.

                “At least he hasn’t eaten anyone, I suppose,” he said, feeling in his pocket. He felt a smaller round shape. Confused, Bilbo pulled the shape out and immediately smiled. An acorn. He had forgotten he had this. It had been from Beorn’s garden. It had only been a passing thought. A desire to plant the little thing and grow a beautiful Oak tree in his garden back home. It would be the tallest tree in the Shire. Why hadn’t he remembered he had this? He could have used a story about a skin-changer to distract the dragon from eating him.

                Bilbo returned to where Thorin was forcing the others to search endlessly for the Arkenstone. He hadn’t even noticed his absence. Clearly a Hobbit could pass undetected by creatures their size as well as taller men. He was so obsessed with finding the stone.

                Bilbo wished he could bring the Thorin he knew back. He wanted to banish this monster posing as the dwarf.

                After having helped the search, knowing it would be fruitless, Bilbo went to sit alone again. Sighing, he pulled the acorn back out. He remembered Thorin’s mission back when they met Beorn. It had just been to get his homeland back. Now all he wanted was the stone. Why couldn’t he go back to being satisfied with having the mountain back?

                “What is that?” Bilbo froze. Thorin. He sounded angry.

                Quickly standing, holding the acorn, he tried to say it was nothing. “In your hand, what is it?” Thorin scowled at him.

                “I-it’s nothing,” he stammered.

                “Show me,” Thorin ordered.

                With a soft sigh Bilbo held out his hand, showing the seed. Thorin looked confused. Confused was better than angry. “I picked it up… in Beorn’s garden,” the little Hobbit said, smiling at his friend.

                “You’ve carried it all this way?” Thorin asked, the familiar tone returning to his voice. Bilbo felt hope rising in him.

                “I’m going to plant it in my garden,” he said, shifting, hoping, “In.. Bag End.”

                And Thorin smiled. And he laughed. A small, quiet laugh, but it was there. And Bilbo wished it would turn into a full laugh. He wished for Thorin to come back. “It’s a poor prize… to take back to the Shire,” he said, still smiling.

                Bilbo couldn’t help but smile back. His friend. This was his friend. Not the dragon taking over his mind. “Well…” he started, trying to brush off how incredibly happy he truly was, “One day it’ll grow.” He made a small laugh of his own. “And every time I look at it, I’ll remember.” Now he spoke from his heart but not to himself. He spoke directly to Thorin. Hoping he could reach his friend. Truly bring him back. “Remember everything that happened, the good the bad… And how lucky I am that I made it home.”

                And Thorin smiled. Proud and happy. Teeth showing with tiny laugher. Bilbo was so close. He just needed more time. “Thorin, I-“

                “Thorin,” Dwalin’s voice broke the happy air. Thorin’s face fell instantly. Bilbo wanted to shove Dwalin away. He didn’t understand. He had been so close! The dwarf he met in Bag End had come back. Now he was gone again. And the King Under the Mountain returned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you didn't see the tags. SMAUG LIVES. It's the #Weneverseeabody au.  
> So, Smaug does come back... Just not yet.  
> But don't worry. The dragon and the hobbit do get back together. (It may or may not be a happy reunion.)
> 
> PLEEEASSSSEE POINT OUT SPELLING ERRORS  
> I HAD SO MANY THIS CHAPTER


	15. Battle

                Bilbo had seen the same fire. He had seen the familiar burning rage in Thorin’s eyes that he had seen in Smaug’s. When Thorin tried to throw him from the gates of Erebor. I was like coming face to face with a monster all over again. It was like he was back in the lake under the Goblin kingdom being chased by a horrible creature trapped in a rage. That was what Thorin had become. Nothing more than a hate filled monster.

                He had been trying to help. He had given the Elf King and Bard the Arkenstone in the hopes that Thorin would come to his senses. Surely the lives of his friends and the lives of hundreds of innocent people meant more to him than a silly jewel. Surely his honor meant more.

                Oh how wrong he had been. He had nearly let himself cry when Thorin tried to kill him.

                His friends helped him to run away. To run back to Gandalf waiting below. The wizard happily accepted him by his side. Oh how he wished he could be accepted again by the Dwarf Prince. He looked up at Gandalf as he reasoned with Thorin. A battle was coming. A war, even. Smaug had talked of it. He had called it a darkness. Their lives would not matter when this was all over.

                He hadn’t thought of it in a long while. The dragon’s warning had been a brief worry in his mind. Eclipsed by looming teeth and claws.

                Now, though, when the army of Thorin’s cousin and the army of the Orcs surrounded him, he realized the trouble he was in. Death was all around him. He and Gandalf stayed together, both attacking whenever they could. He wanted to be home. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be trying to kill other creatures. All he wanted was to go home.

                He and Gandalf had rushed to Dale once the Orcs started attacking it. They needed to help the men inside. Bilbo knew there were children in there. He may have only been a small Hobbit, but he was not willing to let innocent children die.

                He had went to the wall of the city and stopped at what he heard and what he saw. A great, loud chime. A bell. The sound rang out and chilled the air. And there, he saw the Dwarf army opening in the middle before swallowing back up and returning to attack. There were cheers. Shouting. In the center of the parting army there was a small band of dwarves. The company! Fili, Kili, Ori, Nori, Bofur…! Thorin!

                Thorin was out there! He was fighting!

                “The dwarves!” he said as Gandalf joined him, “They’re rallying!”

                “They’re rallying to their king,” the old wizard said.

                Bilbo looked back at his friends. There they all were. Fighting like the warriors they were. He let out a cheer of his own, smiling at the way Gandalf looked at him. He was happy. Thorin was back.

                His victory had to wait, however, as the city was under another attack. He rushed away and fought with the wizard by his side. But even with the dwarves rallying, things were not going well on the city front. It seemed as though the Elves were getting ready to turn away. He saw fewer and fewer of them out there fighting. He had seen four of the Dwarves going up to take out Azog. And he had been happy, until one of the Elves returned to tell them of another army coming from Gundabad. I was above the valley of the mountain. It was where the dwarves had just gone.

                “Thorin is up there! And Fili and Kili, they’re all up there!” He had to go and warn them. They had to get out of there. Gandalf tried to stop him.

                “They will see you coming!” he had said.

                Bilbo clenched his fists. He already knew what he had to do. The ring was practically calling him to put it on. “No they won’t. They won’t see me.” Gandalf looked at him curiously. He wasn’t waiting for him to say yes. He wasn’t asking him to allow it. He was going. He was going to help his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me for being away... I've been busy, distracted, and depressed. Not a good combination...  
> Here's the next installment.  
> Also I was giggling when I had 69 kudos because I am apparently a twelve year old.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE POINT OUT SPELLING ERRORS


	16. Returning Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to be away for so long. I've been busy with school. Final projects and other assignments and my dog got hurt and I cried because I want to go home and see him but I can't. Lots of shit's been going on. If updates are slow, those are reasons why. Sorry.

                Bilbo had cried. He had cried until his eyes could cry no more. They were dead. Fili, Kili… Thorin. Three of his only friends on this earth were dead.

                He had cried over Thorin’s body. He had been there when he passed. He had heard his last words and felt his last breath. He had seen the light fade from his eyes. The direct line of Durin was dead. Thorin’s sister still lived, but from what Bilbo knew she was too old to bear any more children. The throne would pass to Thorin’s cousin.

                Gandalf came to him and had almost offered some comfort. But nothing he said would bring them back. Nothing he said would make the sight of his friend’s death leave his mind. He would never be able to forget the sight. He had thought the dragon would haunt his dreams, but now he knew that would be far from his mind. All he would see when he closed his eyes was the life draining from Thorin’s.

                There was familiarity as he sat with Gandalf, the wizard smoking his long pipe. It reminded him of being home. But now it would never be the same. Once he was a lonely Hobbit who never knew what it was like to have friends. Now he was a heartbroken little man with three empty places in his heart. He would sit in his chair and read his books and think of how Thorin thought of them in his dying moments. He would break a dish and he would see two brothers playing and tugging each other’s hair and he would see Fili and Kili in them. He was going to hurt for a while. He knew he would.

                As he said goodbye to his friends, he felt tears in his eyes again. There they all were. Saying farewell, smiling at him. Reminding him that even though he had lost some friends on the way that they were still there. They would still remember him. They would still think of him.

                “Tea is at four, and uh…” he smiled, happy to have the opportunity, “Don’t bother knocking.” He wanted them to visit. He was happy to make them laugh with his invitation. He looked forward to the day they came to the Shire again. He would welcome any mess they made. He wouldn’t be angry if they ate all of his food. He couldn’t wait to see his cupboards go bare with their appetites.

                He and Gandalf traveled then. They carried the small chests of treasure Bilbo took with him and their clothes and food. Each night they rested. Bilbo often had nightmares. Always of the same thing- Thorin’s death. He would wake in tears. The grey wizard would comfort him and tell him all was well now and that Thorin would never be forgotten. He would live on in legend. Bilbo said he knew, but he didn’t want a legend. He wanted his friend back. He missed him. And he missed Fili and Kili, but they did not haunt him like the memory of the Dwarf Prince did.

                When his nightmare changed for the first time, he almost welcomed it. He had been asleep for a long time. The last thing he had seen, however, had been a massive glowing red-orange eye opening in front of him. And when he woke he found the sun shining right into his face. It had frightened him, but he was happy to have not relived Thorin’s death again. The memory of the dragon was preferable to the memory of death.

                It had taken months to return to the Shire. On the way he and Gandalf had found the troll horde. They had taken the small chest the dwarves buried all that time ago. Bilbo took it more for the memory it held than for the wealth. He just wanted to hold it and think back on his adventure.

                He knew Gandalf often saw him clutching it against his body, along with the acorn he took from Beorn. Both held strong precious feelings in his mind. He wanted to keep them forever.

                When he finally returned home, he was not the same Hobbit who had left all that time ago. He was changed. Gandalf chastised him for keeping the ring a secret from him, and in the past he would have been frightened by the scolding, but now he was happy to have it. He was happy to have the wizard care so much about him.

                His home was being ransacked when he got back. He was of course, very angry. He stopped the Hobbits auctioning off his furniture. They pretended not to know him, which made him realize just how unhappy he had been before. He didn’t have friends here in the little town. He had neighbors who would gladly take everything he had. Even his relatives were trying to take his things. When he presented the contract he signed so many months ago, Bilbo felt himself puff with pride and anger.

                Even when his sorrow returned at the mention of Thorin, he still stood strong. Not all of his possessions were retuned, but Bilbo didn’t care. The things that were returned were enough. The first thing he did after hanging the portraits of his parents was go out to his garden. Kneeling down, he dug up a small patch with his hands. Looking at the acorn in his hands, he smiled and thought of the friends he still had.

                He truly was lucky to have come home. He was lucky to have so many wonderful stories to tell. No other Hobbit on this earth could say they faced off against giant spiders, a skin-changer, a monster that was neither man nor beast, a dragon, and a battle of five armies and lived to tell the tale. No one had the memories and experiences he had.

                Carefully, he placed the little acorn into the earth and covered it back up. With a small amount of water, he left it to grow. Soon he would have a magnificent Oak tree. In honor of his dearest friend, Thorin Oakenshield.


	17. Mistaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nyheheheheheheh

                Bilbo had been home only for a year. He knew he shouldn’t be so sad, but he often found himself waiting by his front door or outside on his bench for his friends to come visit. Often he would sit alone for hours before going to sleep at night, wondering when they would come.

                He had many Hobbits come to talk to him all the time, asking about the details of his adventure. The children adored his stories about the dragon. Just as he knew they would. It seemed that every young Hobbit always wanted to hear more about the great fire breathing beasts. They were all incredibly excited by the tale that Smaug had healed his burns. They were so excited. None of them had known dragons could do such a thing.

                The adults, however, often wanted to hear tales of the Elves and the riches of the mountain. They hardly ever wanted to hear of the dragon or the battles. And they certainly didn’t want him telling their children about that. But he did anyway, eager to relive each memory through his words. He talked about meeting the Elves of Rivendale and the ones in the forest. He spoke of their beautiful architecture. He talked of seeing the great king Thranduil and the great Lady Galadriel. Every Hobbit wanted to know of the ancient beauty of the Elves. So few ever passed through the Shire.

                Occasionally someone wanted to hear what, to Bilbo, was the most wonderful moment of his journey. And each time, Bilbo always remembered finally being accepted by Thorin into the Company. He always talked of when the Dwarf Prince held him and thanked him for saving their lives. Standing atop that rocky outcrop and finally feeling welcome had been the most wonderful feeling of Bilbo’s life. He missed it every day he spent alone in the Shire.

                He now finally understood just how lonely he was. He had friends ages away and he couldn’t easily go to visit them. He wanted to. All the time he thought about going to see them instead of waiting for them to come to him. But even though he had lived a battle and survived impossible odds, he was still just one small Hobbit.

                Lately he had taken to watching his little Oak tree sapling. He would just sit and smile at it stretching toward the light. He made sure to protect it. During the winter he had actually made sure to support it and keep as much wind and weather away from it as he could. His tree was strong. It had survived its first cold season and he knew from experience that was the hardest. Now he had years to look forward to. Just to see it grow taller than he was and see it taking over his garden. Little Hobbits would want to come and climb on it once it was fully grown.

                By himself, Bilbo sat on his bench. He blew perfect smoke rings and watched them dance into the air. A Hobbit walked by and greeted him. He waved and said hello in return. He had sent a letter to his sister not long ago. He finally received her response. She was overjoyed to hear that he had returned. She would have to visit him soon, but she had news of her own. She was pregnant. Bilbo had been so happy to read that. He was going to be an uncle. He would have someone to tell all his stories to!

                He couldn’t wait to have a little Hobbit sitting on his legs, eagerly looking up at him and listening to him talk about Elves and Dwarves and battles from years ago. He would tell the pair of bright eyes looking up at him the legend of Thorin Oakenshield and the story of the last great fire drake.

                Excitement for the day he would finally get to meet the baby was always with him now. Even in his darkest moments when he thought ending it all would be his only peace, the thoughts of the baby brought him out of it. How could he share his stories if he died? No. He would not let himself die.

                Keeping himself above water was hard. Each passing day took its toll. Each nightmare hurt him. Each night of having tea alone made him miss his friends more and more. He was often making messes for himself to clean up just to remind himself what it was like when they first came to Bag End.

                Bilbo had actually wrote up a little sign that read “Went to Visit Friends, will be back soon”. He was so ready to go and see them. He kept it on his table and would look at it when he went outside. Each time he opened his front door was a battle in his mind. Should he hang the sign and try to go see his friends or should he just live out his normal life? He missed them so much. Even just going to visit the Elves would help his sorrows. Just to see those familiar faces.

                It was late at night now. Bilbo had been drinking tea to try and help himself sleep. He hadn’t been able to for long periods. It was the nightmares. He didn’t want to close his eyes and see death. So he sat before his dying fireplace and held his mug. He had felt like he was starting to drift away when he heard it. A loud thud at his front door. The joy jumped into his heart and he hopped to his feet, not caring that the mug fell and spilled on the floor.

                Just as he got to the archway out of his sitting room, the door flew open. Terrible, ugly Orcs came inside. They shouted strange words at him and before he could try to get a weapon, he was tackled to the ground. As he struggled he finally heard them speaking in a language he could understand.

                “This is the one, then? This is Baggins?” one asked, obviously trying to earn a reaction out of him as well as their leader. There was seven of them. If he could get to his sword he could fight them off easy.

                The leader was suddenly right in his face. “Well, then, Baggins, it’s good to finally meet you.”

                “What do you want?” Bilbo spat, scowling at the ugly thing. “If you want money, fine! Just take it! I don’t care!”

                The Orcs laughed. “Oh, it is money we want, but we want quite a bit more than what you have here,” the creature said.

                “Well then why don’t you go and get it and leave me alone?!”

                They all laughed again. As if what he said was some kind of hilarious joke. The leader looked back in his face, grinning. “We can’t leave you. We need you.”

                “For what?” Bilbo asked, fighting as the others lifted him to his feet. He tried to fight them off and stop them from doing anything, but four of them tied his arms behind his back.

                The leader found the sign Bilbo made and ordered the others to hang it on the outside of the door. He looked back at Bilbo only once it was done. “You should know,” he said, Bilbo assumed it was a he, as it was shirtless and he didn’t see breasts. When Bilbo frowned harder at him, he said, “With you we have the ability to control one of the most powerful beings in all of Middle Earth.”

                They were taking Bilbo out now, trying to stuff a rag into his mouth. “What are you talking about? What creature?”

                The Orcs laughed again. “Don’t play, dumb! We’ve all heard the stories!” Bilbo bit the one trying to gag him. “You spent four days alone trapped with Smaug the Terrible and he didn’t eat you. In fact,” the leader turned to Bilbo with a grin, “According to the stories we’ve heard, the great one saved you from starvation.”

                Bilbo gawked at the Orc. The Dwarves must have told others about the tale, because he hadn’t told a soul. Shaking his head, Bilbo spoke again. “What…? You think you can use me to control a dragon? You’re mistaken, Smaug is dead! He was shot down by Bard’s arrow!” Surely these creatures must have heard of Bard if they had heard of him.

                “Oh, yes, King Bard’s arrow found it’s mark,” the leader said, “But who ever said Smaug was dead?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...... what did we think? :3


	18. Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Cough cough cough cough*  
> Excuse me I just have the next chapter caught in my throat.

                The Orcs took Bilbo away, often throwing him about like a ragdoll, to a location Bilbo did not know. And he could not ask, for the creatures finally managed to gag him. He was forced to sit and listen to them when they spoke to him and try to understand when they spoke to each other in Black Speech.

                Whenever some slept and others kept watch of him, Bilbo tried to process what they told him. Smaug was alive… How? He had seen him fall. He had watched the beast die!

                But that wasn’t what they had said that really bothered him the most. They had said they could use him to control Smaug. How would they hope to do that? Smaug had tried to eat him. He had nearly roasted him alive. He would eat them all the moment they were in his lair. Just because the dragon had kept him alive didn’t mean anything… Did it?

                When they were trying to feed him, he would try to ask his questions. They never answered him until he finally asked, “What makes you think he won’t just eat us all?”

                Looking at him, the leader laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? This is Smaug the Terrible. The beast that took Erebor from the dwarves, the fire-drake known for killing without hesitation- and he let you live.”

                “Only to try and eat me again once I was fattened back up!” Bilbo argued, before being shoved.

                “As long as we have you, we can get the beast to bring us many riches. We can get him to do our bidding.” Bilbo tried to argue with the delusional orc, but was unsuccessful. He had to listen to the blathering idiot and realize he was being taken to his death.

                Smaug would kill them for thinking they could control him and just for extra measure he would eat Bilbo before he did.

                So much for getting to meet his sister’s baby.

                After a few day’s travel the small travelling company made it to a mountain near the forest Bilbo saw burn all those years ago. They were discussing things in their language, and Bilbo was staring up at the mountain. He could see a cave-like entrance around the side of it. He could see the claw marks around the opening. Fear was already running up his spine.

                The orcs dragged him up the mountainside. He fought every step of the way, desperate not to face his fiery death. But finally they were just outside the opening.

                He was shoved, quite unceremoniously into the cavern. Bilbo had a feeling this was what they said they were going to do to him once they got here. Just to really test if Smaug would eat him.

                He struggled a little, trying to at least turn so he was on his side. He heard rumbling and then felt the thudding. Inhaling deep through his nose, he stilled his movements and let his eyes look up into the cave. Soon enough the thudding revealed two very familiar giant clawed feet.

                “You…?”

                He turned his head to look up and swallowed as he saw the familiar face of Smaug the Terrible. His breathing picked up fast. The dragon didn’t look any weaker than the last time he had seen him. He was going to die.

                The dragon began lowering his head to look at him. Before Smaug got anywhere near him, though, the orcs rushed out and grabbed hold of Bilbo, yanking him up to his feet. The dragon reared back again, scowling. Bilbo could hear the snarling hiss escaping the dragon as fire burned in his chest.

                “We have your precious Hobbit!” one of the orcs shouted, “If you don’t want to see him die, then you’d better listen to what we want!”

                Bilbo turned his head, scowling at the orc because they still thought Smaug was going to listen to them. He looked back up at the beast, watching the glowing eyes flick over the faces of the small group. When they landed back on him, Bilbo let his eyes fall closed and his face hang down. If this was how he would die, he would accept it.

                “What are your demands?” Bilbo’s eyes shot open and he looked up at the dragon, shock all over his face. His eyes were wide and if his mouth were not gagged it would be hanging open.

                “You are to give us any treasure you have collected here, and you will go and get us more every day, or we will kill your little pet!”

                Bilbo shook his head violently, wanting to say that Smaug didn’t have to pretend he cared. Bilbo didn’t care if the dragon killed him. He was trying to plead with Smaug all over again, but this time for him to kill him right then and there.

                “Very well.” And Smaug moved out of the way so the terrible creatures could drag Bilbo further into the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhhhhhhhhhhh  
> it's okay  
> it's okay now  
> shhhhhhhhh


	19. Look How Your Dragon Loves You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short

                Bilbo had been in the cave for three days. And still he and the orcs were alive. Constantly the ugly creatures held weapons to his throat or kept him locked away with at least one member of their company. The poor Hobbit had never expected this would happen. Why was the dragon listening to these greedy creatures? He was just a Hobbit. He didn’t matter.

                Slowly the orcs were falling into a rhythm. Smaug would leave in the morning and return with more gold and jewels for them to fawn over and lay about in. Then they would make him bring them food and once he returned with it they would laugh and gorge themselves. Smaug would demand they show him that Bilbo was still being fed, and Bilbo would be dragged from the small crevice to have food stuffed down his throat. He had been trying to not let himself eat anything. If he were dead they would have no leverage over Smaug.

                After a while of this routine, Bilbo began noticing that the less he fought, the more carefree the orcs were around him. Maybe if he made them think he was no longer going to fight he could get away from them.

                Bilbo was sitting, arms still tied and mouth still gagged, in the crevice with one of the orcs. The other creature was teasing him. “Look how your dragon loves you,” it chided, grin vile and disgusting, “Look how he cares. How sweet. You must feel very honored.” Bilbo was sure Smaug could hear the creature. He was embarrassed to think the fire drake had to listen to this teasing.

                “Now, though, I do wonder,” the orc said, moving close to him, “Do you love your dragon in return?” Bilbo was startled. Blinking and staring, he backed away. He didn’t want to hear this. He wanted to die. This orc was a monster. He wanted it to leave him alone. “I’ll bet you don’t,” it hissed, far too close to Bilbo, “I’ll bet you’re in love with someone else. That’s why you didn’t think the dragon would save your petty life.”

                Bilbo felt like he was going to cry. He didn’t want to hear this. He wanted the ugly creature to shut up.

                “Was it Oakenshield?” Bilbo’s eyes opened wide. “I heard you went on a journey with him. Was he your lover?” Bilbo was shaking his head, cheeks red with embarrassment. “He was, wasn’t he? You loved him and didn’t return your dragon’s feelings but he still wants to save your pathetic little life.”

                Bilbo was shaking his head, eyes shut now, trying to block out what the orc was saying. It wasn’t true. None of it was true. It was all lies!

                The orc was right in his ear now.

                “Look how your dragon loves you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shh shh shh its all good  
> its all gonna be okay now  
> shh don't worry  
> bilbo is trapped by orcs  
> shhh  
> he's in good, gross hands  
> incredibly gross hands  
> filthy hands  
> bilbo's fucked


	20. Og

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned once more from the depths.

                Bilbo had been stuck with the same orc for days. He had found out she was female and was struggling to conceive a child. He wasn’t sure what to do with this information, but at least he was gaining her trust. He had asked if any of the other orcs in their party were female, and she said two of them were her sisters. So his kidnapping was a family affair. It made him angry to think these creatures who were part of a family were willing to hurt his family. They had no way of knowing if he had a wife or children.

                He still had not been allowed the use of his hands, but at least he was no longer gagged constantly. Maybe if they were kind to him he would have Smaug spare their lives. He felt sympathy for the one who said she wanted to have a baby. None of the others really had his sympathy, though. He rather hated all of them.

                He could see Smaug growing more enraged each time the creatures told him what to do. The fire glowing red in his belly was a powerful indicator. The dragon wanted to roast them alive. He could understand why. These orcs were acting like they were the masters of a giant fire breathing dragon. A creature that could kill them without a second thought.

                Bilbo had at least been respectful toward the dragon when he was in his realm. The fire drake deserved respect, if nothing else.

                “How will you take all the treasure once you have what you want?” he asked his companion, who he found out was simply named Og. He didn’t feel like it was a very pretty name, but then again the female orc wasn’t very pretty to him.

                She looked at him and her face fell. Clearly she hadn’t thought of that. Bilbo had found out that Smaug understood them when they spoke Black Speech. When they had tried talking and saying things in the language, the great beast had spoken at them in the same tongue. As a creature of Mordor, that seemed about right.

                “I… I do not know…” she said, “Perhaps we can get the beast to carry it away with us.”

                Bilbo laughed. “Smaug is a dragon,” he said, “And if there’s one thing a dragon loves more than anything else, it’s treasure. He will sacrifice everything before he helps take it away from his horde.” She looked frightened. “You may think he cares for me, but I can prove to you that he cares for his treasure more than he ever could me.”

                “But he agreed to bring us riches!” she argued.

                Bilbo scoffed. “He agreed to bring riches back here to you. It’s still in his home. Once he finds an opening, he will no doubt kill all of you.” Now Og looked terrified.

                “You will speak to him, yes?” She asked, gripping his shoulder and making Bilbo gag from the stench of her breath, “You will tell him to think of me, yes? Of my baby?”

                Bilbo sighed. “You and your company will not allow me to speak to him, remember?” He half enjoyed the frightened look on her face. But the other half of him knew her fear all too well. He had experienced dragon fire. The burns had been terrible. Smaug’s tears had healed them well, but if the dragon had not taken pity on him… He wondered how ugly they would be now.

                The ugly creatures had brought him out while they ordered Smaug to bring food for them. He looked upon the great fire drake with sorrow. Smaug looked tired and angry. He had seen the beast close enough to tell the difference.

                The orcs had not gagged him this time, but he worried if he tried to speak to Smaug they would. Perhaps after he brought them another meal…

                The great dragon returned with his kill and dropped it before the small pack. He set it ablaze and rested back on his hind legs, scowling and hissing. Bilbo recognized that behavior. It made him want to duck away and hide while he had the chance.

                “Th-thank you, Smaug,” he said, drawing the eyes of the orc pack and Smaug alike. The dragon’s giant eyes were searching Bilbo’s face and form. Bilbo was quickly scolded and shoved for speaking out of turn. He heard Smaug snarl at them for that.

                “You watch your tone, you great ugly lizard!” one of the orcs shouted. Bilbo felt all color drain from his face. The snarl Smaug responded with was death. These orcs were truly asking to be killed.

                “You really should be more respectful,” Bilbo commented, looking at Og.

                As they ate their meal, Bilbo found himself looking up at Smaug. The beast had his eyes trained on him the entire time. It made him feel like he was the meal, not the animal they were eating. It was strange. Bilbo almost… enjoyed seeing the great beast again. It was familiar. Made him think of his adventures with the dwarves. It was terribly like being inside the Lonely Mountain again. Only this time he was not alone with the beast. He had company.

                Bilbo looked at the gold beside the dragon and smiled at the knowledge that there was no mind-poisoning jewel hidden anywhere inside it. Just simple, cold metal and gems. Nothing could change his friends into… He stopped himself there. He was not going to let himself become overly sad thinking of dead friends. It would do him no good.

                He wondered how the other dwarves were doing back in Erebor, though. How long must it have taken to organize all the gold Smaug left tossed about? Had they even finished organizing it? They must not have. He had seen the ruins. The golden horde was practically a mountain on its own.

                As Bilbo sat surrounded by the orcs, he remembered how the dragon had expressed his dislike for orcs. He looked back up at the great beast. Not being able to kill the ugly things must have been gnawing at him. He saw the strange spikes atop his head standing the longer he looked at him. He had a feeling the dragon would destroy everything the very minute he had the chance. He would honestly be happy if he did.

               

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So........... thoughts?


	21. A Small Relief

                Bilbo was happy to finally be allowed to use his hands. It had been getting more than uncomfortable keeping them in such a stiff position behind his back. It was even more uncomfortable to have the orcs feeding him.

                None of them seemed to care too much that they had grown lax. They all seemed to think that since he hadn’t put up a fight, he wasn’t going to. They still got angry every time he spoke to Smaug, but they hadn’t really put the gag back in his mouth since Smaug had reacted by actually singeing one of them. Bilbo had gotten nearly beheaded for it, but he managed to talk his way free by saying that if he was dead nothing would be holding Smaug back from killing them.

                He still didn’t really believe Smaug cared as much as the orcs thought, but they certainly seemed to. Every little threat about offing himself had the orcs angry and nervous. He found they had given him more freedom when he complained in front of the beast. Not keen to antagonize him all of a sudden, it seemed.

                Bilbo was watching the mound of gold grow in size every day. He wondered how many villages Smaug must have destroyed. It was as he sat eating that a thought suddenly dawned on him.

                “You haven’t come across a town of Hobbits in your collecting, have you?” he looked up at Smaug. He ignored the orcs telling him he wasn’t allowed to speak to him. What if Smaug had burned all of Hobbiton? Where would he go? He would have no home to go to. What would be the point in staying alive if his life was destroyed?

                Smaug lowered his head ever so slightly as he spoke to Bilbo. “I have not come across any like you,” the dragon said, voice relatively quiet, “I have only seen and plundered the cities of men.” Bilbo sighed; shoulders relaxing. It was a small relief, but a relief nonetheless. It was also probably a selfish relief, because Smaug was still attacking other villages and other families. He just didn’t want to go home to destruction. If he went home at all.

                Bilbo still wasn’t quite convinced Smaug cared enough about him to not give up and kill them all anyway. He could grow bored of this very easily. Or the rage could build. Bilbo knew what the beast was lie. He was worried.

                Og handed Bilbo another bit of the food. Bilbo frowned. He didn’t like the orcs touching his food. Their hands were filthy. He took it, though, so as not to antagonize them. He saw Og yawn. Pretending not to really take note, he ate his food in silence. Maybe she would fall asleep watching him. He could easily escape if she did…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a lot of Smaugbo fics created all of a sudden. It's kinda nice to not see just my story getting updated. I like it. Not the only one at the party anymore. Yeah! Dragons!


	22. Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't think of a better title for this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *incessant yawning*

                Bilbo finally gained the trust of the orcs who had taken him. He had use of his hands now. They had finally unbound him. And that, Bilbo guaranteed, would be their undoing. As he stayed in the small prison with Og, he watched and waited for her to drift off to sleep. The moment she did, the ring was upon his finger.

                He stalked silently toward the opening. He could see Smaug lying there in the middle of the cavern, watching the orcs that were awake pace around. Once the opportunity to leave presented itself, Bilbo took it and hurried toward the massive beast.

                Carefully his hand reached out and touched beside Smaug’s mouth. He saw the dragon’s eyes widen, but he did not move.

                Inhaling deeply and quickly, he whispered, “I am here. I’m here, Smaug.” The dragon’s eyes moved to where Bilbo stood. And he wondered if he could see him, just like he had all that time ago in Erebor. The great eye seemed to know exactly where he was and it looked him right in the face. “You don’t need to protect me anymore.”

                The dragon lifted his head and Bilbo could already feel the heat of the fire burning in his throat. He moved away from the heat, but remained close to the dragon’s side. For the added precaution of not being hit by him accidentally, Bilbo removed the ring. Before he could say a single word, the dragon let the fire spew forth and burn the orcs that were outside. Their screams rang out before the flames silenced them. But Smaug did not stop burning them. He burned them until the flakes of ash from their bodies were floating around the golden horde.

                Bilbo was trying to scream for him to stop. Anything to make it stop. All he saw around him was the burning rain of his childhood. He saw the fire falling from the sky. He wanted it to stop. He was begging for it to stop. He had closed his eyes and covered his ears and screamed for mercy. The tiny Hobbit was freed from his state of panic by a nudge to his side.

                Opening his eyes, Bilbo looked up to see the dragon staring at him. Smaug growled low by his side. “I should eat you,” the beast said, eyes narrow, “You miserable thing…”

                Bilbo swallowed. And suddenly he remembered Og. Looking at the hole in the wall, Bilbo quickly began to scurry over. “Smaug, please,” he called behind him, “There is one left. Please, spare her, your grace.”

                Smaug snarled, stopping Bilbo from reaching the opening by blocking his path. “And why should I take orders from the likes of you?”

                Bilbo nearly fell into Smaug’s paw as he blocked his way. He stopped himself and looked at the angry beast. “Why should I spare the life of a filthy orc who dares think themselves my master?”

                The little Hobbit swallowed as Smaug’s head grew close. Looking up at the beast, Bilbo felt himself tremble. But he tried to remain strong. “Please,” he said, voice quiet, “Please Smaug…” Carefully he put his hand on the beast’s snout. “I… I have no reason you should listen to me. I just… I’ve spoken with her… She never meant-“

                Smaug snarled, pulling his head back. “Do not touch me!”

                Bilbo bowed his head. He was confused. The dragon had saved him from the orcs. Had he truly not cared? Had he been made to believe the dragon worried for him when it wasn’t true?

                Now the dragon was rearing back with rage at his touch. “Do not speak to me as if I were some mongrel pup touted around on a leash!” Bilbo curled in on himself, afraid now that he was going to be burned. “Get out of my way,” Smaug hissed, “That filth doesn’t deserve pity.”

                Smaug lowered his head. “Surely you don’t feel it does.”

                Looking at the hole in the wall, Bilbo thought about the probably terrified orc inside. She had been horrible to him. She and her band. But she hadn’t wanted to do this… But she had tormented him about the dragon… But it had never been her intention to kidnap him… He sighed. He was conflicted.

                “Move,” Smaug ordered.

                Bilbo swallowed. “I… I had meant to tell you,” he said, instead, tying to think of what he did in the mountain to keep himself alive, “I-I have told stories of you.” Smaug narrowed his eyes, but didn’t respond. “The, uh, the children adore hearing about you.” Bilbo smiled a little, trying to ease some of the tension. He feared Smaug would light him even now. No matter what the orcs had said and what he had seen, he did not doubt the temper of a dragon.

                “The elders do not think I should be telling them such tales,” Bilbo shifted, still trying to smile, “They feel it’s too frightening a subject. They’d much rather hear the stories of the beauty of the Elves or the riches of the mountains. They positively shake when I even begin to speak of you.”

                “As they should,” Smaug growled, lowering his head a little to look at Bilbo, “And as should you. Now get out of my way.”

                “Th- the children were amazed to learn of the healing properties of your tears,” Bilbo continued, pretending like he didn’t properly hear the dragon. What a terrible lie. The beast was massively loud. “Many of them wished I had bottled some up to give to them…”

                Smaug hissed again. “Thief, I am not a patient creature. If you do not move now I will-“

                “Baggins?” Bilbo turned fast at the tiny whimper of a voice that came from inside the crack I the wall. Smaug’s attention turned there as well. Bilbo quickly went to the hole, suddenly seeming to realize Smaug wasn’t blocking the way anymore. He ducked inside just as snapping teeth closed behind him. Smaug snarled.

                Bilbo tried to ignore the beast. Og was standing there in front of him, looking frightened. Bilbo wasn’t sure what to do.

                “I’m sorry,” Og said, “I should not have taunted your dragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Two in one day. I'm that bored. You guys must hate me.


	23. Familiar

                Bilbo stood there, completely frozen for a moment. He heard Smaug snarling just behind him, but only vaguely. Mostly he was in shock at his own actions. Why had he done that? Smaug very easily could have caught him by a limb and ripped it off. Even without meaning to, the beast could have. He needed to be more careful. If either of them survived this mess, they would only do so if he was careful.

                Og moved toward him, but Bilbo stopped her by putting his hand out. “Don’t,” he spat, “I’m still unhappy with you. Just… Don’t.”

                Smaug snarled from outside the little crevice. “You are not pleased with the filth, yet you still try to save its life!” the beast sounded angry, “I will never understand your kind.”

                Bilbo looked at the dragon from where he stood. This felt all too familiar. Something along the lines of when his feet were bloody and he was hiding inside the walls of Erebor. The tremors of fear felt all too similar.

                “Gandalf told me the decision to spare a life is more important than the decision to end one,” he said. His voice was weaker than he wanted it to be, but at least he was able to speak at all. Og seemed too frightened to say anything other than “Baggins”. Bilbo moved a little closer to the opening. “You chose to spare my life, oh Smaug. And for it, I am forever grateful, even if I never truly know the reason why. But whatever your reason… Please…” He wished the beast would look at him. _Really_ look at him. Like he did when he turned one eye to see him. Instead Smaug was staring down his snout at the little Hobbit. “Please try to understand my reasons for wanting to spare her life…”

                Smaug hissed and turned himself away. Bilbo watched the beast move back and forth, almost like he was pacing.

                “Perhaps I should not have spared your life!” Smaug bellowed, fire glowing bright in his belly, “It has done me no favors to save your petty life!” Then the beast lowered his head; great eye leering in at them. “You... _You_.. You have taken everything from me!” Bilbo put one arm in front of the orc beside him. He knew he was shaking just as fiercely as she was, but he had to try and be brave. He swallowed.

                Smaug was glaring in at them. Bilbo didn’t know what to do. He just stood there and stared back, trying to swallow the painful feeling in his throat. He didn’t move, though his trembling knees begged him to. He could hear Smaug huffing angrily. Og’s hands gripped tight to his arm.

                “If I’m the one that ruined you, then why don’t you just kill me instead?” he asked, not really sure if he meant it. “She’s not the one who took Erebor from you.”

                Smaug growled. “One life does not match another. That creature is filth and deserves no courtesy, least of all pity.”

                “Take me instead,” Bilbo repeated.

                The dragon twisted his head away. “You and your wretched dwarf friends,” he began, snarling venomously on the word dwarf, “What do you hope to prove with this false bravado?” The eye was back in the opening. “You cannot fool me. I can smell your fear. Do not lie to me, _thief_.”

                Bilbo swallowed again, still unsuccessful at getting rid of that pain. He smiled very very weakly. “Th-that sounds familiar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's chapter twenty three. Probably adding to the confusion of my story, but oh well.  
> My dog stepped in my paint earlier. I am getting sick. Today hasn't been the best day.


	24. Something Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. I was on break and got sick the night I went home. I took a break from everything to try ad get better. And I'm still not better. But, here I am anyway.

                Bilbo was sitting on the floor of the little cavern now with Og still beside him. The two were watching the dragon just outside fume angrily. I had taken Bilbo several hours to realize why Smaug wasn’t trying to claw his way inside. The simple reason was the cave would probably collapse if he did. This wasn’t structurally stable like the mountain of Erebor.

                Smaug still snarled and spit small bursts of fire, but Bilbo was not so afraid now. He understood a little better the situation he was in.

                Once he finally felt confident enough to speak, he chose to ask questions Smaug probably wouldn’t want to answer.

                “Why have you spared my life so many times?” Bilbo asked, “I’m sure the life of one little Hobbit is completely insignificant to a beast as mighty as you.”

                Smaug growled at him. The beast turned his head away and continued growling.

                “If you do not wish to tell me, I will not try to force you,” Bilbo said, trying to stay on the dragon’s good side at the very least. Smaug eyed him before lying down and staring into the crevice at the two of them. Bilbo tried to smile. “The little ones had started re-enacting my stories,” he said, deciding that talking would make things a little easier for all of them. Poor Og looked like she was having a heart attack every minute. “They build an entire city out of baskets and call it Laketown… Often they argue over who gets to be you and destroy the whole setup.”

                Smaug only moved his head as Bilbo told his story. “They make the strangest noises when they pretend to light things on fire, but of course they’ve never heard it before.” Bilbo looked at Og. “My sister’s pregnant, actually,” Og looked a bit less scared hearing that, “I can’t wait to tell her baby all my stories. I’m going to be rambling on and on before it can even understand what I’m saying.”

                The dragon shifted again. “Such a strange creature…” Bilbo turned his head to look at him. “So many men would lust after riches or fame, yet here you sit idling over stories. Truly that can’t be all you wanted from your quest?”

                Bilbo smiled. “It is all I wanted,” he replied, pulling his knees up close to his body, “I was tired of letting days pass me by in the Shire. I wanted to go out and live and have something to show for all my years.”

                Smaug purred from outside the cavern. Bilbo was hopeful this was a step in the right direction.

                “There is something about you, little Thief,” Smaug purred.

                “What, the ring again?” Bilbo palmed his pocket nervously.

                The great dragon turned his head to the side. “No… I cannot place it… Why I’ve spared your sorry life… There is just… something different.”

                Bilbo almost thought that was a compliment. Right up until Smaug spoke again.

                “Perhaps I’m just amused by your very obvious death wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the chapter's so short. I'm busy. Finals are coming up. I want to die. Someone kill me with a puppy.


	25. Tell Me How

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry it's been so long. I didn't have internet for like 5 days. And it's been the holiday season, so I've been hanging out with family mostly.

                If Bilbo didn’t know any better, he would have thought the dragon just made a joke. He stood there looking at the beast in shock. When he heard the familiar rumble of Smaug’s laughter, he realized it had been a joke, or at the very least teasing.

                Gawking up at the dragon, Bilbo tried to think of something to say. Instead, Smaug spoke for him. “Yes, you certainly do amuse me, small creature.” Bilbo jumped when Smaug lowered his head and looked in at him again. “Such strange bravery… Many a man stronger and larger than you would have abandoned the filth.”

                “Y-yes, well, you’ve seen the way I am,” Bilbo stammered.

                Smaug purred. “Oh yes, I certainly have,” his voice was low, “You are a fool.”

                “Fool enough to want to save one of the people who kidnapped me and fool enough to continuously be talking to a dragon about it,” Bilbo said. “Goodness, at times I worry for my sanity.”

                Og patted Bilbo’s arm. He didn’t bother looking at her. Whether she was trying to be reassuring or trying to reaffirm her remorse, he didn’t really care.

                “Please, Smaug, I just don’t want any more death,” Bilbo said, stepping forward a little, “I’m tired of all the killing. I’ve seen so much more than I’ve ever wanted. Please…”

                The dragon looked away from him with a puff of steam. “So many requests from such a small creature… You seem to be under the impression that I am a creature of mercy.”

                Bilbo pulled his hands in front of his chest and held his shirt. “I… I had hoped that your choice to spare me meant…” He squeezed his fists. “I just… This is all I ask of you. No more requests. If you no longer wish to keep me alive, I won’t ask to be spared… I just can’t take anymore killing…”

                “Even killing of filth like orcs…” Smaug sounded amused, “Such compassion…”

                Bilbo jumped back as the beast laughed. “You truly are a fool.”

                “I… Maybe so… I may be a fool, but I am a fool who is tired of death and killing. I have seen more than any Hobbit ever should. I can never unsee what I have, but I would request not being witness to anymore,” the small Hobbit said. He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I feel as though I’ve said this a dozen times already.”

                Smaug nodded his massive head. “Yes, I believe you have. You do appear to be recycling the same words.”

                “Then it must be clear how badly I desire this end,” Bilbo moved a little closer to the opening, “Can’t you just let one orc go? Just one?”

                Bilbo stared up at the beast, hopeful and worried together. His heart leapt as he saw the dragon begin to move away from the cavern. Had he finally seen reason?

                The familiar hiss of Smaug met Bilbo’s ears as the beast turned its monstrous body aside. “Just… one…” the hiss came again, “Yes, choice words indeed…” Giant claws curled and moved away from the cavern with the hiss. “Just one will leave here tonight… Just one will survive…”

                Bilbo watched Smaug worming around in the cave. His eyes soon trailed from the head of the beast, along the serpentine neck, and rested upon the now wider opening in the scales just under the left wing. He could not contain his curiosity.

                “How did you survive?” The beast turned to him. “I saw you fall.”

                Smaug lowered his head and crawled close on his underbelly. Bilbo could imagine him as he was in the mountain, mocking, telling him to flee. His big eyes blinked at him.

                “There are many things you do not know of dragons,” Smaug said.

                Bilbo tried to smile. “You could always teach me. You taught me about other dragons.”

                There peered in the same familiar eye. Smaug stared at the Hobbit. Again Bilbo asked.

                “How did you survive?”


	26. Homesickness and a Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey!! I have returned! Hopefully to a mildly normal schedule! I still have online classes, but I will have internet for a few days! I have issues with that.  
> I'm glad people are enjoying this story! I've been having fun working on it!

                Truly Bilbo was not the same Hobbit he was before. Here he sat alone, unarmed and completely unguarded as he talked with a massive, firebreathing dragon as if they were old friends. Golden mounds on either side of him, a frightened female orc probably already long gone, sprinting away down the mountain. If he ended up dead he would not really be surprised.

                Maybe he was just lonely. Maybe he just really missed his adventures with the dwarves. Maybe the dragon reminded him of them. Of times when he was surrounded by friends. Times when he was not alone and did not ever think of ending his own life.

                Bilbo did not even attempt to resist when the dragon took hold of him and pulled him away from where Og had been. If keeping him meant she would live, then so be it. The beast’s claws had been rough and hurt a bit. Still, he wasn’t tossed about like a ragdoll, and for that he was grateful. Smaug had been surprisingly aware of his size and strength. Little Bilbo was kept high above the jagged rock and jostled as little as possible. The beast was… surprisingly gentle.

                Bilbo had been set on a small pile of rugs and other fabrics. When Bilbo was about to ask where they came from, he found a jacket still with a charred skeleton inside. He kept his question to himself.

                “Now,” Smaug spoke, slithering and swirling about until he had Bilbo surrounded with his tail and body, “What would you like to know… little one?”

                Bilbo stopped fiddling with the bones and lifted his head to the beast. He could see Smaug shifting his weight back and forth from one mighty wing to the other, lowering himself to look at his little Hobbit. “I… I want to know how you survived. I-If it’s not too much trouble to ask.”

                Smaug chuckled. “You already have asked, little thief.” The beast flicked his tail forward, brushing it against Bilbo and knocking the little Hobbit off balance. “You should consider yourself lucky that I tolerate you,” he mused.

                Bilbo nodded. “I-I do. I am often shocked you hadn’t killed me in Erebor, to be frank.”

                The dragon hummed, chin resting on the rock before him. Bilbo was completely surrounded by dragon and didn’t feel even a little afraid. Seeing the familiar big orange eyes looking at him just reminded him of the dwarves. He actually found himself smiling in spite of the stench of death on Smaug’s breath. Smaug noticed it.

                “You seem happy for one who has death continuously in mind.”

                Bilbo’s smile widened. “You amaze me,” he said, staring up, forever craning his neck. Smaug blinked and purred. “You’re nothing like you used to be… and yet you’re exactly the same… You’re just… Smaug the amazing.”

                Smaug’s purr was low and constant by this point. The dragon seemed incredibly happy. “Flattery again,” he hummed, “Such sweet words.” Bilbo shifted a little, smile still bright. Smaug blinked slowly, reminding Bilbo of a content cat, and huffed out a breath of steam. “But of course, I am getting off topic. You asked how I survived, yes?” Bilbo nodded. Smaug lifted his head and, shifting his weight, motioned to the larger opening in his scales. “You say you saw me fall. I did… The bowman hit his mark.”

                Bilbo frowned now. “But if his aim was true, there was no way you should have survived.”

                The dragon looked away from his chest. “I didn’t.” Bilbo blinked. Smaug smiled his same frighteningly toothy smile. “I lost myself after I was struck. I came back the moment I hit the water. The chill…”

                “Restarted your heart,” Bilbo finished, “B-but you were stabbed. The arrow surely must have hit your heart!”

                Smaug shifted. “Perhaps you would like to take a look,” he knocked Bilbo with his tail again, “The arrow struck deep. Verging on bleeding to death, I managed to crawl from the lake…” Bilbo walked forward and gazed up into Smaug’s wound. It clearly had healed, but even in the shadow of the scale above, it didn’t look pretty. It was a dark, nasty color. “And I waited and rested upon the shoreline for many days before I felt well enough to hunt.”

                Bilbo swallowed and flexed his fingers. He felt the urge to try and help tend to the injury, even though he knew it was already healed.

                “You want to touch it, don’t you?” Smaug asked and Bilbo jumped.

                “I-I’m sorry.”

                “You may, if you like,” Smaug said, tail swishing, “You are too small to hurt me.”

                Bilbo smirked. “Are you saying I’m not a threat?”

                “You yourself said you weren’t… Remember?” Bilbo hummed and pouted, pretending he didn’t. He reached his hand out and touched inside the gap in Smaug’s scales. It was twice as long as his head and three times as wide. He reached forward until his fingertips touched hot, rough flesh. It felt like Dwalin’s boots, just… warm. It made him miss him. Smaug started to continue his tale, but Bilbo couldn’t hear. Even with Smaug’s booming voice, Bilbo couldn’t hear him. He slid to his knees, and sobbed.


	27. Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

                Smaug had been startled by Bilbo’s sudden sorrow. Just moments ago Bilbo had been smiling and joking. Why such a swift change?

                The dragon reached his claw down and gently pulled the little Hobbit away back to where he could see him. “Why the tears?” he asked, watching the creature curl back down once he was released from Smaug’s grip, “Have I burned you?”

                Bilbo shook his head. “No, no,” his voice was muffled, “It isn’t you… I’m just…” Bilbo wiped his sleeve across his face to try and get rid of some of the tears, “I miss my friends.”

                The dragon frowned. “The dwarves?”

                Bilbo nodded. “I haven’t seen them since the battle for the mountain. That was over a year ago.” Smaug continued to frown, though Bilbo did not see it. He hated dwarves. Always had and always would. “I miss them terribly,” Bilbo murmured.

                “Had you asked for their visitation?” Smaug asked, shifting his weight to lower his head. When the tiny creature nodded, Smaug frowned again. Typical of dwarves. Make promises they never intend to keep.

                “I-I’m sure they’re just busy. They-they do have a kingdom to run, after all…” He sniffled and wiped at his nose next. “Really, it’s not that long to wait… I suppose I’m just impatient.”

                The dragon growled softly. “You give dwarves too much credit,” Smaug said. Bilbo didn’t look at him. “They are vile, greedy creatures that care more for gold than their own offspring.”

                “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bilbo grumbled.

                Now Smaug reared back. “Oh, don’t I? I don’t know what I’m talking about? I wasn’t offered multitudes of dwarf infants in exchange for the mountain?” Bilbo covered his ears as Smaug began to below in his rage. “I am looked upon as the monster, but here are these _Dwarves_ that you care so much for _throwing_ their young at me. _Begging_ for their precious mountain. _Begging_ for-“

                “Stop it! Stop it, stop it!” Bilbo was screaming, hands over his ears, “Smaug, stop! I don’t want to hear anymore! Stop it, please!” Tears were streaming down his face. He had forgotten about this. About Smaug’s way with words. About how he could make him feel with just a few words. He screamed and sobbed and begged Smaug to stop. “Please! They’re my friends! Please stop! Smaug, please!”

                Once the beast finally stopped, Bilbo’s throat was raw from screaming. He wasn’t sure if dragon spell worked in the opposite way, but all he wanted to do was get away from him right now. He wanted to curl up somewhere far away and wait for the dwarves to come and find him.

                Smaug lowered his head and nudged Bilbo with his snout. Bilbo tried to shout at him to go away, but his voice broke and scratched at his throat. He ended up collapsing and lying on his side on the ground. The dragon huffed. Once again the tiny thing was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much cryingggggggggggggggggg


	28. Bilbo

 

                Little Bilbo had allowed Smaug to rest his head beside him only because he couldn’t find the voice to tell him off. The Hobbit cried until he couldn’t cry any more. He didn’t want to think that anyone would willingly give their children to a monster to be eaten. Especially for something as stupid as gold. If he had children of his own he wouldn’t give them up for all the money in the world.

                His body finally settled and the tears stopped their flow. He lay next to the dragon feeling miserable.

                “Have you exhausted your lungs, little Barrel Rider?” Smaug asked.

                Bilbo groaned. “My name is Bilbo,” he said, turning his head toward the beast.

                Smaug narrowed his eyes. He had to strain to hear the tiny, raspy voice. “Bilbo?” he repeated. He looked at the Hobbit for confirmation, but Bilbo just curled into himself further. “I think I prefer Barrel Rider.”

                Bilbo didn’t speak for a long time. “Did you eat them?” Smaug blinked at him. “The infants given to you…”

                “Oh,” Smaug turned his head away.

                “You did…” Bilbo didn’t even need him to answer. “Why would you eat them? They were only babies…”

                Smaug huffed. “I suppose at the time I felt it was payback.” Now Bilbo sat up.

                “Payback?” Bilbo coughed after he spoke, his throat still raw, “What.. What do you mean?”

                The dragon cast his gaze back to little Bilbo. “Looking at you, I feel so guilty…”

                “Tell me,” Bilbo said.

                “You yourself know that men kill dragons often as they can,” Smaug said, “But most often the dragons that are killed are not like me.”

                Bilbo swallowed, desperate to soothe his aching throat. “Not like you how?”

                “They are female,” Smaug replied, “And are often killed trying to protect their young. Now, tell me little one, just what do you think these killers do once they’ve downed the mother?” Bilbo didn’t need him to answer. He knew. Fresh tears rolled down his face. His eyes hurt terribly from the salty sting. “Why do you think there are so few dragons left alive? Why are the ones remaining so old? How is a new generation expected to emerge if it’s cut off at the head?”

                The little Hobbit held up his hand. Smaug stopped talking and huffed out a ring of smoke.

                “H-how,” Bilbo coughed again, his voice was so weak, “How many young dragons?”

                Smaug scowled. “Thousands.” Bilbo flinched, still crying. “Men and dwarves have murdered thousands of infant drakelings as well as unborn young.”

                Bilbo shook with his tears. Smaug nudged him again. “Now do you understand, little one?”

                Bilbo nodded. “Yes… Yes, I understand.” It took him a little while to finally calm down. He looked up at Smaug again. “Thank you… For letting Og live… I’m sure it was not easy for you. You never seemed fond of orcs.” Smaug purred, Bilbo felt it in his legs.

                “Letting that filth run out of this mountain was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to experience,” Smaug said. Bilbo tried to laugh, but his voice wouldn’t work with him. He reached up and placed his hand on Smaug’s snout. Again Smaug purred.

                Bilbo rubbed at the large scales on Smaug’s snout. His hand slowed as his mind raced. Finally he stopped altogether. Smaug worried he would begin to cry again.

                “It must really have been hard for you to let her go…” Bilbo looked at Smaug. “I… I know you heard her.” Smaug narrowed his eyes, he looked confused. “W-when she said you loved me.”

                Smaug’s eyes widened a little. He pulled his head back.

                “Do… do you remember that?” the little Hobbit asked. Smaug had turned his head to the side.

                “I do,” Smaug replied, turning back to Bilbo, “She irritated me.”

                Bilbo laughed with his raspy voice. “I think she sees now just how wrong she was.” Smaug huffed and turned his head away again. Bilbo found that… odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to do homework, so here is another update.


	29. Napkin Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE IN THE CHAPTER ITSELF. THANKS

**_ Hey! Normally I don’t write author’s notes in the actual chapters, but I wanted to be sure people saw this message.   I apologize for how long it’s taken me to update. I’m back at college now and I’ve been busy and distracted. Finding time and inspiration to write has been tricky. Thanks for understanding. Updates may be a little slow for a while. _ **

 

                Bilbo had been sitting in silence for near two hours now, judging by the change in the sky outside. He didn’t know what to do. Smaug didn’t seem very keen on letting him go, even though he saved him from the Orcs. Each time Bilbo even walked toward the exit of the cave, the beast would pull him back either physically or with a conversation.

                He didn’t dislike the dragon’s company by any means. Bilbo actually found himself enjoying moments of their conversations. He just… He wanted to go home. He wanted to see the familiar faces of Hobbits and he wanted to see if the Dwarves had come to visit him. Smaug didn’t like hearing him say that. The fire drake still hated dwarves in general. Bilbo didn’t dare bring it up again. He didn’t want to test Smaug’s patience too much.

                Truthfully, though, Bilbo had been mulling over Smaug’s reaction for most of his time sulking. The beast hadn’t yelled or gotten angry. He didn’t really do anything. The lack of reaction wasn’t like him. Bilbo recalled the dragon having quite the nasty temper.

                Bilbo looked at the massive fire drake from where he sat. Smaug was sifting through all the new treasures he had collected. Mostly he was just pushing them into the bigger pile he already had, but occasionally he would pull something to the side and look at it.

                The silence was awful. All Bilbo could hear was Smaug’s constant hissing and the scraping and clinking of the metallic trinkets. If Smaug wasn’t going to let him leave, then Bilbo at least needed a distraction.

                “Why do dragons collect such vast hordes of treasure?” he asked out of the blue. Smaug stopped in what he was doing and turned his big head to him. Bilbo wondered if he had not heard him.

                Eventually the beast replied, though. “It is to make a nest,” Smaug said.

                “For having babies then?”

                Smaug made the noise like a hum and cocked his head. “Not always. Often it is for attracting mates,” the dragon rumbled, “but most simply prefer sleeping in the metals and gems.”

                Bilbo frowned. “That doesn’t seem very comfortable…”

                That comment earned a toothy smile from Smaug. “Perhaps not to your tender flesh,” he said, turning his head back to the treasure, “But against the scales of a dragon it is the most pleasant of sensations.”

                The little Hobbit almost responded to that, but decided against it. Smaug seemed to find something nice among the treasure and shoved it in Bilbo’s direction. It actually ended up smacking against the wall beside him and bouncing a few feet away, Smaug pushed it with such force. Bilbo jumped.

                “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

                Smaug grumbled and nudged the object back toward Bilbo. “This piece smells of you… Is it familiar to you?”

                Blinking, Bilbo picked the little piece up off the ground. It was one of his napkin rings. Seeing it he couldn’t help but laugh. “Apparently I missed Lobelia taking this one,” he said, lifting it up. Compared to Smaug, the piece was so tiny. Not even big enough for Smaug to even feel it if stepped on. He looked up at the drake. “You could catch my scent on something as small as this?”

                The beast nodded and lowered his head, nostrils flaring as he inhaled. “You were the first creature I caught scent of in near sixty years,” he said, “it is not something I will easily forget…” Bilbo smiled and ran his fingers over the little ring. It was silver, but probably still something Smaug would like. “Though, I must admit,” Smaug brought his attention back, “The scent was faint… I had nearly missed it.”

                Bilbo scoffed. “Yeah, well that’ll happen when your cousin steals and pawns it away to whoever will pay the highest price for the silver…” He shook his head. “She’s always stealing my spoons, you know. I have to hide them from her or she’ll stuff them into her dressings.”

                Smaug rumbled happily. “You attract such negativity, little thief.”

                “Apparently I attract thieves,” Bilbo added. He flipped the ring over a few times before holding it out to Smaug. “You can keep this, I don’t really care too much what happens to it…”

                Smaug didn’t take it, though. The beast flicked his tongue out and pushed Bilbo’s outstretched arm back toward his tiny body. Bilbo flinched at the motion.

                “And I care far too much. It will simply be buried here. You will tend to it in the way it deserves…”

                “I have enough to dote on with my sister having a baby,” Bilbo argued back, holding the ring back out. “Why don’t you just keep it to have something else to remember me by?”

                Smaug frowned. Bilbo was hit by the huff of steam from the beast’s nose. “Would you not come back to see me again after you leave?”

                That question startled Bilbo. He looked into the glowing eyes peering at him over Smaug’s snout. “You’d let me go?” he asked, “And you’d want me to come back?” Smaug turned his head a little bit. “B-b-b- uh… But you said I took everything from you…! You would really want to be reminded of that again?”

                “I would rather think I would be reminded of times like this… And we would share more times like this… together…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long. Be sure you read my note to understand the update situation. TAHNKSSSSSSSSSS


	30. Waiting for Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this one now because why not. I'm not going to bed yet. You can't make me.

                Bilbo had one hundred percent screamed when Smaug took hold of him with his teeth. Smaug had actually laughed at him and dropped him back down.

                “If you’re going to manhandle me, you could at least warn me!” the little Hobbit shouted up at the chuckling fire drake.

                Smaug began lowering his head again. “Such harsh words from someone so small.” His teeth closed around the back of Bilbo’s jacket once more. He lifted the tiny creature up and began walking them both out of the cave. He hopped up and opened his wings, letting them glide down to the little valley at the base of the Cliffside. Bilbo could hardly breathe. For Smaug, there was hardly any speed in what was going on, but for tiny little Bilbo it felt like being caught in a hurricane.

                Once the drake landed, Bilbo coughed and heaved and took in as many deep breaths as he could. The drake lifted up a massive paw and let Bilbo drop into it. Bilbo landed with an ‘oof’.

                “Which direction is your home, little one?” Smaug asked.

                Bilbo looked at him as if he were insane. “What?”

                The dragon frowned. “Do not pretend you cannot hear me.”

                “You’re not about to fly me back to Hobbiton! The entire population would be sent into a panic! Everyone would think I’d gone mad for allowing a dragon to hold me in its teeth!”

                “Have you not?” Smaug asked. Bilbo inhaled and then huffed when Smaug chuckled at him. Teasing. Now the dragon was teasing him.

                “All right, fine, maybe I have gone mad,” he admitted. He had. He was definitely mad. He was having a conversation about his mental state with a dragon. How much more insane could he get? “But I am not about to have you causing an uproar in Hobbiton.”

                The fire drake sighed. “Then you expect to walk yourself back, is that it?” He watched Bilbo huff and puff in his palm. “You are not exactly a threatening figure… Nor are you armed.”

                Bilbo groaned. “I’m not sure, I honestly never thought you’d agree to let me leave,” he admitted. Smaug growled at that, but Bilbo was too busy trying to think to notice. “Maybe we could wait until nightfall. That way even if anyone sees you, they might mistake it for a trick of the dark.”

                Smaug turned his head toward the slowly falling sun. It would be dark in a few hours. It wasn’t a terrible plan. Bilbo felt that was the best option. Smaug couldn’t exactly walk inconspicuously through the dense forests in the area. Trees would be falling everywhere. There would be a direct path to the mountain for hunters to follow.

                “I suppose that is our only option,” Smaug agreed after a while.

                The beast set Bilbo on the ground and then lowered himself to rest on the grassy earth. Bilbo looked around them at the trees, noticing how small they looked next to the dragon. Perspective was such a strange thing next to such a massive creature.

                Bilbo sat down and plucked absently at the grass. Smaug was just watching him, still making that soft hissing noise.

                “Do you know when you’re doing that?”

                “Hm?” Smaug’s eyes shifting were the only movement he made.

                “The hissing noise you’re making right now. Are you aware of it, or is it more subconscious?” Bilbo asked, motioning at the beast.

                Smaug rolled his shoulders and shifted his wings around. “It is not under my control,” he replied.

                Bilbo nodded and went back to plucking pieces of grass. Eventually he started twisting the grass together and weaving the blades into a flat blanket. Bilbo glanced up at Smaug at one point and, as usual, the beast was just staring at him. Not quite as intensely as he had all that time ago in Erebor, but it was still off-putting. He tried to ignore the glowing eyes watching his every move.

                “Goodness, how much time has gone by?” Bilbo asked, huffing, cheeks pink, embarrassed and all too aware of Smaug watching him, “I feel as though I’ve been here for hours!”

                The dragon chuckled. “It’s hardy been a few moments, you tiny, impatient creature.”

                Bilbo groaned and turned away.

                “What was it you were doing with the vegetation?” Smaug asked as Bilbo paced back and forth.

                The Hobbit stopped and looked at the page of grass he had left. “That? I was just weaving the grass blades together.”

                “Is that how your kind make textiles?”

                “What? No. We don’t make our clothes out of grass.”

                Smaug blew a smoke ring at Bilbo. “Let me clarify. Is this intertwining of strands the process by which your clothing is made…?”

                “Oh,” Bilbo felt sheepish. Why did he think Smaug was asking if his clothes were made of grass? That was dumb. “Sometimes, yes, but usually that’s referred to as knitting… Mostly weaving is for making baskets or rugs.”

                Dragon claws picked up the little sheet of grass and raised it up close to Smaug’s eye. After he looked at it more closely, Smaug put it back down.

                Bilbo was oddly touched that Smaug hadn’t destroyed the object. If he were a dragon he would be lighting all sorts of things on fire, just for the pleasure to burn feeling.

                “Do dragons enjoy burning things?” he asked.

                Smaug hummed at him. “I’ve answered many of your questions already, Barrel Rider,” Bilbo deflated a little, as Smaug spoke. Had he pried too much? “How had it taken you so long to ask a question like that?”

                Bilbo frowned again. Smaug seemed fond of teasing him.

                “To answer your question, however, yes. We especially enjoy burning Dwarves and Orcs,” Smaug said.

                “Of course you do,” Bilbo huffed. Sunset could not come fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sleepy but I don't wanna go to bed........ Agh...


	31. That Day Never Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry the chapter updates are slow. Super busy because of school lately. I was able to type up a bit over my break, but I was still really busy then too. Not enough hours in the day....

                Bilbo had learned that he was very different from Smaug. Smaug loved being watched and having someone staring at him. Bilbo hated it. It made his skin crawl. Perhaps mostly it was the fact that it was a dragon staring so intently at him, but he definitely did not enjoy it.

                The little Hobbit had been wandering around in the little open area, uncomfortably aware that Smaug was seeing every single movement he made. Bilbo found a little pond not too far from Smaug’s tail. The beast turned himself around and peered at it with Bilbo.

                Bilbo smiled at the little tadpoles swimming around in the water. He moved to reach his hand into the water and stopped at his own reflection. He looked an absolute mess.

                Quickly splashing water into his smudged, dirty face, Bilbo washed as best as he could. He tousled his hair about as well. His hair could use a trim, but that could wait. He looked back at himself and felt a little bit more proud of his appearance. He could see Smaug watching him in the surface of the water.

                “Why do you put that on your body? Do your kind prefer cleaner sources of water?” Smaug asked, watching Bilbo.

                Bilbo grinned. “What? No, no, we’re not that uptight,” he replied. Smaug frowned.

                “You said your kind made food.”

                Standing and brushing himself off, Bilbo replied, “Yes, but we can’t exactly make water. As long as it isn’t muddy it’s fine.”

                “Then why did you splash it into your face and not drink?”

                “Because I was a mess,” he said “My face was smudged and covered in soot. Had you not noticed?”

                Smaug turned his head away. “You worry for your appearance too much.”

                “So you had noticed it,” Bilbo said.

                The dragon rolled his wings around. “It did not mar your words, nor your expression, therefore I didn’t bother with it,” he said.

                Bilbo frowned. He didn’t enjoy being dirty. He looked at Smaug’s scales. Was the beast coated with soot himself? Perhaps it was perfectly normal and acceptable, even, for dragons to be covered in ash and the remnants of fire. He turned back to the pond, scooped up a small amount, and rubbed his wet hands into the side of one of Smaug’s great scales. The beast looked down at him when he did it.

                “What do you think you’re doing?”

                The Hobbit frowned when there was no change to the coloring of Smaug’s scales. When Smaug nudged him for not answering his question, Bilbo looked up. “Oh,” he stepped back and brushed his damp hands off, “I wanted to see if you were as filthy as I was.”

                “I cleanse myself regularly, little thief,” Smaug said, sounding offended.

                “Oh, and I don’t?” Bilbo asked, smiling. He used to play teasing games like this with Bofur. Bilbo loved his sense of humor. It was weird to think he was doing the same thing with a murderous beast. He never would have imagined a dragon would make him laugh so much. He never imagined much more of a dragon, other than fiery death. Smaug surprised him more and more the more time he spent with him.

                “Why are you really letting me go?” he asked, after a while of giggling, “You keep saying it’s because of something special about me, but that doesn’t feel right to me… The last time you said there was something about me, you were just trying to get me out of hiding.”

                Smaug huffed. “If I had left you there, would you not have simply run away the first chance you got?” He turned his head to look at Bilbo with one massive eye. “If I had left the mountain even for a moment to bring food, would you have sat idly by and waited for my return?”

                The little Hobbit sat down in the grass with a frown. He wouldn’t have stayed. Smaug was right. He would have tried to run the first moment he got. He didn’t even have to say it aloud. He glanced up at the big orange eye looking at him and he could see that Smaug knew. But even with that, he didn’t feel like that was enough of an answer. What was so special about him that Smaug was willing to spare him? After all the things he did to bring him down? After his close association to the dwarves he hated so much? Why? What made him special?

                “What else?” he asked, looking into the familiar massive eye. “Just knowing I would run would be reason enough to kill me, not to free me.”

                “You ask so many questions,” the fire drake hummed, “I… enjoy your company,” Smaug shifted his weight around and let his tail curl close to the little Hobbit, “You have interesting stories and you say such flattering words…”

                Bilbo laughed a little. “And if I were to stop saying such… flattering things…? Would you dispose of me?”

                The dragon licked his teeth. The motion made Bilbo cringe. “Well,” the beast purred, “Let us hope the day you’re not interesting never comes…”


	32. Do You Blame Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH  
> I have been so busy!!! I finally got time to post this and it's only because I'm eating dinner! WHYYYYYYYYYYY

                “What would you have done if the orcs had killed me?” Bilbo asked as he ate the fresh kill Smaug brought. It was from a cattle herd that apparently wasn’t too far off.

                Smaug turned his head from the larger portion of the cow. Bilbo could see the blood around his mouth and he nearly vomited. It took all his strength to hold it back.

                With a swallow, Smaug said, “I would have burned them where they stood, just as I had once you were safe with me.” Bilbo stopped himself at the beast’s choice of words. He smiled about it. Smaug keeping him safe…

                “Well, I suppose no one else would be able to protect me quite as well as a dragon,” he said. Smaug hummed and continued eating. Bilbo laughed. “Is that why you’re letting me go free? You just want to keep me safe and you’re certain I could never keep myself safe alone?”

                “How long did you say you had been home before the orcs took you?” Smaug didn’t even look up as he asked.

                “A year,” Bilbo replied. When Smaug only made a short grunt noise in reply Bilbo looked up. “What is it?”

                “What were you to do if these creatures had not found me?” Smaug asked, “How would you have gotten away? They outnumbered you and overpowered you. Where would you be without me?”

                Bilbo scowled. “I’d be with Thorin…” It was only a mutter under his breath, but Bilbo instantly regretted saying it. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate,” he said after. He could see Smaug looking at him. “Actually, if it hadn’t been for you I never would have met Thorin or the others… I would still be the same Hobbit I always was…” Now he could see Smaug moving toward him. “Never doing anything, never going anywhere… If you hadn’t taken that mountain I would never have been part of the company.” He looked up at the beast now with a small smile. “It seems I have a lot to thank you for… As well as hate you for.”

                Smaug lowered his head and nudged little Bilbo. “Barrel Rider…”

                Bilbo laughed now. “I’ve taken so much from you… But at the same time you’ve taken so much from me… I’ve lost some of the closest friends I’ve ever had… But I only had them because you took their home from them… You took from them and gave them to me and then because of you, they were taken back again…”  Bilbo felt himself crying, but he was still smiling anyway. “I finally made friends… Real friends,” he looked at Smaug, “I’ve never had any real friends before… And I finally made some because an old wizard brought us together to try and get rid of a dragon in a mountain.” He laughed again. “It’s funny isn’t it?”

                “In a way,” Smaug said, tilting his head a little. “Do you blame me for your suffering, little thief?”

                The sun was starting to set, but neither of them were getting ready to return to Hobbiton any time soon.

                Bilbo sniffled. “Don’t you?” he responded, “Don’t you blame me for your losses? You’ve said you have already…”

                “I do,” Smaug said, not pausing even a little, “I blame your dwarf friends, as well. Especially Oakenshield.” Bilbo wiped his nose with his sleeve. “In every sense I should hate you just as I hate the dwarves… And yet, I don’t… Instead I care for your safety and enjoy talking to you… Does that seem logical to you?”

                Bilbo laughed. “No, but neither does befriending a dragon, really…”


	33. Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO HELLO HELLO. I am ALIVE!!  
> I'm finally home and settled back in. Still terribly busy. I have a job interview tomorrow so I figured, why not put this up tonight?  
> I hope this chapter isn't a huge let down! Let me know if you like it. :)  
> I've missed writing this. I've been so busy.

                After a short amount of time Bilbo calmed down. He pushed himself up off his knees and looked at the dragon. “Are we ready to go?” he asked, wiping his sleeve across his nose.

                “Are you feeling well enough to leave?” Smaug asked, not moving.

                Bilbo placed his hand against Smaug’s snout. “No,” he answered truthfully, “But I will be… I just need more time to myself.” Smaug didn’t argue, he simply lowered his head onto the ground. Bilbo carefully climbed up onto the scaly beast. “Will I be safe to fly up here? Or will I fall off?”

                “Would you rather I transport you in my mouth?” Smaug replied.

                Bilbo couldn’t tell at first if that was a joke or not. “Would that be safer?” When Smaug chuckled at him he frowned. Clearly it had been a joke. It hadn’t sounded unreasonable, though. In Smaug’s mouth he would be protected from the chill of the wind. And there would be no risk of him falling off. “You don’t think it would be safer that way?”

                Smaug puffed out a small ball of smoke. “I don’t particularly think there would be much breathable air in there.”

                Bilbo made a small “oh” noise and shut up. He held tight to Smaug’s horned head. The dragon raised himself up slowly. Once he was at his full height, Smaug started moving. Bilbo knew the beast was trying to jostle him as little as possible, but it still felt like he was holding onto a moving earthquake. His very bones trembled with every step Smaug took.

                The dragon climbed back up the side of the mountain. Bilbo was trying to keep his eyes closed.

                “Perhaps you should tie yourself down,” Smaug spoke, “Just for extra precaution.”

                Bilbo shouted back at him, though he probably didn’t need to, “Perhaps this was a terrible idea!” Smaug growled at him and Bilbo lifted himself up. He tore part of his trousers and wrapped it around one of his wrists. Once it was tied to his wrist, he tied it to one of the spikes atop Smaug’s head. “All right! It’s done!” Bilbo lowered himself as flat as he could against Smaug’s head and closed his eyes tight. It wasn’t far to the Shire from where they were, but he knew the flight would not be pleasant for him.

                The lift off felt awful to poor Bilbo. Smaug dropped himself down much too fast and jumped back up even faster. It was like his whole body was thrown into a stone wall. Bilbo was fairly sure he had groaned, but he couldn’t hear anything anymore over the sound of the wind rushing past his ears. Even lying so close against Smaug, it still felt like the air was gripping him and attempting to throw him off. He was thankful now that the beast had suggested tying himself down. His fingers ached after mere seconds in the air.

                Bilbo faintly registered Smaug speaking over the wind. He didn’t want to try to answer. He didn’t even open his eyes until he heard Smaug saying his name.

                Boy, did he wish he had opened them before. His breath caught in his chest at the sight. It was beautiful. He hadn’t seen the earth from a height like this since the eagles. The trees became giant rolling hills of plush texture. The mountains looked like snow in the moonlight. Everything had a lovely pale blue light cast over it. The clouds floated close enough Bilbo wondered if he could reach up and brush his fingers through them. And then when the cloud above passed Bilbo truly lost his breath. The stars… He felt like he was among them. Shimmering little lights, swirling blues and purples in the dark expanse. It danced in front of him. He looked out over a snowy, glassy, twinkling world. Smaug got to see this every time he flew? What a life it must be to be a dragon.

                He wanted to shout to the fire drake, but his voice was lost to the wind. He would never hear him. So he just sat and marveled at the view. It was like seeing a map from the view it was meant to be seen. He could find every shining, fluttering river. Every dark, scribbled roadway. When he saw the warm orange glow of the Shire he couldn’t hold back his smile. It looked like stars on the ground. The little twinkles of the candles in the windows.  Beautiful.

                When Smaug began flying lower, Bilbo wanted to tell him to stop and go back. But he couldn’t stay in the air forever. When they flew low, Bilbo watched Smaug let his wings stay flat. Gliding. He could feel it. He felt weightless. Like a feather. He let one of his arms extend out, sort of imitating the dragon. He just let himself feel.

                The landing jolted him and knocked him forward. His head hit against Smaug’s scales and he was certain it would bruise.

                “Are you all right?” Smaug asked, a little too loudly for Bilbo’s taste. They weren’t quite on top of the Shire, but they couldn’t risk anything.

                “Shh!” Bilbo swatted Smaug, “You must try to be quiet! If anyone sees you…!” Smaug was already lowering his head as Bilbo yelled.

                Once his fuzzy toes were on the ground again, Bilbo turned to the giant. “That’s what you see every time you fly?” His smile was wide. He didn’t even care that he was talking to a dragon. “I’d only seen the world like that once! And it was only for a few moments!” Smaug was smiling down at him, or as much of a smile that those scales could manage. “Why would you ever want gold with a view like that every time you take off!?”

                Smaug’s smile fell a slight amount. “I suppose I’ve grown accustomed to seeing that every day.” Bilbo was still feeling exhilarated, even though his head hurt. He was practically bouncing. Smaug lowered his head to look at Bilbo with one great eye. “I do wish I could see things through your eyes… I must look even more impressive.”

                And Bilbo laughed. Genuinely laughed.

                “Oh yes, very impressive. Absolutely massive.”

                Smaug purred at him. “You flatter me, little thief.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note at the top. :)


	34. Sleep

Realization hit Bilbo the instant his head hit his pillow. He had just ridden on the back of a dragon and wished it a good night. He had ridden a dragon. And not just any dragon, he had ridden on Smaug the Terrible! The greatest calamity of his age! What was he thinking?!  
He had to have gone mad. He had been perfectly comfortable and joking with the beast. Smaug was a man-eater and he had seriously considered riding inside his mouth.  
Bilbo rubbed his face as he lay in bed. He even had made a promise to go and visit the dragon again before the end of the season. He tugged at the bags under his eyes. “Goodness, what a Hobbit I’ve become…”  
None of what happened should have felt okay to Bilbo. He should be having a meltdown right about now and kissing the very ground he walked on. But here he was… not. He felt like he should be more upset than he currently was. That would be rational….   
With a big huff, Bilbo turned over in bed. “I’ll dwell on it more in the morning…” He closed his eyes then and dreamt of flying among the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, but I thought it would be cute. :3


	35. At The Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want ice cream or something, now... It's really hot outside where I live. Staying inside to work on stuff is all I can do...

                “Oh, Mister Bilbo! I saw your sign, when did you get home?”

                Bilbo smiled at Mr. Worrywart. He set down the fish he was looking at as he answered, “Oh, uh, last night, actually.”

                The market was busy as always and Bilbo had chosen to distract himself from the reality of what had happened between him and Smaug. If he was too busy buying himself breakfast, he wouldn’t stop and think about how Smaug wouldn’t answer him when he mentioned the orc saying…

                “I was worried you would be gone for years on end like before.” Bilbo smiled as Worrywart said that. The rest of Hobbiton would have been overjoyed if he vanished again. They’d probably sell off all of his furniture twice as fast as they did last time. He still had hardly managed to get most of his stuff back. He would get nothing back if he left again.

                “You do look a bit a mess, though,” Worrywart said, “You look thin. Not eat enough while you were away?”

                Bilbo paid the stall owner for a very nice looking catfish and started walking toward the next few with his basket. Worrywart followed beside him. “It was difficult to find food we could agree upon,” he said, smiling to his neighbor, “Mostly my… companion wanted to eat things like elk or massive amounts of meats.” Was companion the right word for Smaug? He couldn’t exactly say that he had spent several days with a dragon he had already said was dead. Most other Hobbits wouldn’t be too keen to talk to him again after being lied to.

                “Dwarves?” Worrywart asked.

                “Ah, no,” Bilbo said, “I um.. Oh! Yes, I wanted to buy squash, I forgot. Sorry Mr. Worrywart, but I have to head back to Patty’s market stand.” Bilbo quickly turned and scurried back toward the first few stands. He had dodged a bullet there.

                As he walked back, Bilbo distinctly heard the word “dragon” and stopped in his tracks. He turned his head and looked toward the voice that had said it. It was a little one. Held in his mother’s arms, the tiny young Hobbit was trying to tell her and the other woman she was talking with about a dragon.

                “I did mum! I saw a dragon! Last night! It flew over the Shire and landed by Mister Bilbo’s house!” The child then pointed at Bilbo, “I’m sure Mister Bilbo saw it too! You can ask him!”

                Bilbo didn’t sweat too much until the boy’s mother walked over to him with a scowl on her face.

                “You!” she pointed in his face, “I told you not to tell my children all those stories! Now you’ve filled his head with ideas of beasts and danger!”

                “And dragons,” Bilbo added, grinning. The unhappy flapping of the woman’s mouth only made his grin wider. Her son laughed happily.

                He tugged at Bilbo’s shirt, even though his arms were fairly wedged under his mother’s arm. Bilbo bent forward to look at him. “You saw it, right Mister Bilbo? You saw the dragon, right? It was behind your garden!”

                Bilbo thought for a moment, glancing up at the boy’s mother. “Well, Fargus, I not only saw that dragon, but I rode it back home!” The little boy’s eyes went wide and his mother scoffed before dragging him as far away from Bilbo as she could. Bilbo laughed so hard after that. He was wiping tears from his eyes.

                “I think that will be the only time I’ll be able to tell the truth of it all,” he chuckled to himself, walking to buy that squash he wanted, “It was worth it.”


	36. Miss Agatha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it's been so long. I've been incredibly busy lately. I got my internship, been doing that, didn't have internet for two weeks, and then my dog died.  
> I've not had tons of relaxation time lately, so writing has been ehh...  
> Thanks for understanding.

                Once Bilbo was home from the market he finally took a moment to look at himself in his mirror. He huffed as he saw himself. He really was a mess. He looked even thinner than he was after the adventure with the dwarves. Smaug had fed him, but he hadn’t eaten quite enough to really keep up a steady weight.

                He looked at his basket of food. At least he had a starting point to try and put on some more weight. He didn’t feel sick, but amongst Hobbits, being as thin as he was, thin bodies meant sick bodies.

                “Time for lunch and a snack, I suppose,” he bent and picked up his basket. A quick glance back in the looking glass, and Bilbo walked to his kitchen. “I really should trim up my hair.” He brushed his overgrown bangs from his forehead and got to work on his fish.

                Halfway through his meal he heard a knock on his door. For a brief moment he was angry. But quickly he remembered the last time he was interrupted during meal time. He jumped to his feet.

                Instead of finding the Dwarves at his door, however, Bilbo found one of his neighbors. “Oh,” he tried not to show his disappointment seeing little Miss Agatha. “Hello,” he said to her, “What brings you to my door?”

                “I had noticed you looked thin, so I thought you might like a little extra dessert,” she replied, holding out a nicely wrapped pie. Bilbo took it with a small smile, waiting for the questions he knew would follow. “By chance, were you visiting your dwarf friends again?”

                Bilbo grinned a little. He called that one. “No, um, actually I was visiting… someone else…” Agatha’s smile unnerved him. She was asking ‘who’ without actually asking. “He um, he was just someone I had met while we were up in the mountains… Ssmaaallllnerrr…”

                “Smalner?” she parroted him, “That’s an interesting name.”

                “Yes, well, he preferred to be called by his last name and some last names certainly are odd, aren’t they?”

                “Oh.”

                Bilbo shifted on his feet and coughed. “You know… You um, you interrupted me in the middle of my lunch.”

                Agatha went bright red. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I’ll let you eat!” As she scurried down and away from his front door, she shouted back, “It was wonderful seeing you again!” Bilbo gave her a small wave and watched her go. Eventually his eyes drifted toward the mountains where Smaug was staying. He hoped no one would find him. If the orcs had been able to find him there, how hard would it be for others to find him?

                Bilbo frowned at himself. Smaug was a fully grown dragon. He could take care of himself. He shouldn’t be so worried for his safety. Bilbo spun the pie around in his hands a couple of times as he thought. Was Smaug worrying over him? He had expressed how much he cared about his safety… What an odd pair they must make. A massive, ancient dragon and a tiny, insignificant little Hobbit.

                Once the rain started up, Bilbo wandered back into his home. He stood and listened to it for a moment, thinking about the Dwarves in that mountain. Could they even hear the rain in there? It was such a massive space. It must have been an awful place to live. So cut off from the world. Inside that mountain, could you even hear the wind in a hurricane? Smaug had slept there for decades… Well, perhaps being such a quiet place, it was easy to sleep.

                Bilbo abandoned his fish lunch and just started eating the pie Agatha brought him. Wildberry… Not bad. Not as good as the pies his mother had made when he was young, but not bad.

                Bilbo didn’t even bother washing his dishes once he was done. He simply got up and walked back out his front door. He plopped himself on his bench and sat in the rain until the sun went down. And even then, he sat on his bench.

                “Not doing too well with my plan to gain weight, am I…” he huffed to himself. “I suppose I could start again tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any terrible spelling errors, please tell me. I can't catch everything.


End file.
